


Out of Darkness

by Santal2021



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, AzrielxOC - Freeform, Comfort, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Growth, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, POV Azriel (ACoTaR), Plot Twists, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smut, just a little bit kinky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 63,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28749480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santal2021/pseuds/Santal2021
Summary: On a mission to a far flung island off the coast of the Night Court, Azriel meets someone who is going to change the course of his life forever.Azriel x Rhysand's sister fic!
Relationships: Azriel (ACoTaR)/Original Character(s), Azriel (ACoTaR)/Original Female Character(s), Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 104
Kudos: 183





	1. One

Hello everyone! I'm really excited to get stuck into writing this fic- Azriel is one of my favourite characters and I've been desperate to see more of him in the books, so here we are! This story takes place about a year after the events of ACOFAS - Cassian and Nesta are an established couple in this story, as well as Elain and Lucien. I've added a few notes at the end talking about my OC's if you're curious!

Thanks for reading and please leave any thoughts you have in the comments! 

_______________________________________

Azriel was tired. 

It went deeper than the usual, plaguing exhaustion that haunted his body day to day. Truth be told, his tiredness stemmed from an intrinsic loneliness he feared would never fully leave him. 

The past few months, years really, had taken their toll. Hybern and the whole mess with the Cauldron behind him, the shadowsinger was done taking a spectator role in his own life. Watching from the shadows was what he was good at, what he was made to do. Facing his emotions, dealing with delicate issues in the light of day, was decidedly not. 

Settling deeper into his seat in the comfortable front room at his High Lord and Lady’s riverfront home, Azriel poured himself another glass of wine and resolved to spend some time sorting through his life. 

It wasn’t that change was in order, exactly. Just… closure. Finality. 

Tilting his head back to examine the ceiling, he sighed. Shadows crept over his hands, moving up his arms to nudge at his ear. Rhys was on his way back to the house. 

Pushing up off the chair, secretly glad his introspective musings would have to wait, Azriel moved to the door to greet him.

“Ah, Az. Just who I was looking for,” Rhys said with a grin, shaking snow off of his wings and moving into the room fully. 

He walked over to the fire, dropping into the chair Azriel had just vacated. “Want to take a seat? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” Rhys said, gesturing to the neighbouring sofa. 

Sitting back down, Azriel’s shadows shifted to engulf his hands, buzzing around him as he considered what Rhys was going to say. He had a feeling Rhys noticed his abstraction lately. Whether on purpose or not, Azriel had been spending less and less time with the rest of the group. Turning down offers for dancing at Rita’s, or early morning training with Rhys and Cassian. Despite his lingering loneliness that seemed to grow each day, Azriel felt the need to withdraw, sinking into himself and avoiding company, however well meaning. 

“There’s an island I’d like you to check out, far off the northern coast,” Rhys said, moving to pour himself a glass of wine and top up Azriel’s. “There’s been… strange reports coming from it.” His eyes flickered up.

Azriel’s brow contracted. “Strange reports? Of what kind?”

Rhys brushed a piece of lint off his shoulder and sighed. “It’s not entirely clear, to be honest, which is why I was hoping you could take a look. I’ve been told a group of people have moved in, and it’s been previously uninhabited for centuries.”

Azriel felt a drop of surprise permeate his stony exterior. Strange, indeed. 

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “What kind of people? Fae? Illyrians?”

“Reports are unclear,” Rhys replied. “All I know is a few weeks ago a handful of them arrived and seem to be setting up permanent residence, and I’d like to know why.” 

Fair enough, maybe this wasn’t a made up mission designed help him relax and settle back in with the group dynamics, Azriel thought to himself. He turned his focus to Rhys, mind already sorting through what he needed to bring and how soon he could leave. “When do you want me to go? I can leave within the hour.”

Rhys’ eyes were suddenly shrewd. “Tomorrow. We’re having dinner here tonight, Feyre asked me to make sure you could come.”  
And there it was. He knew it was more than a simple mission. Sighing internally, Azriel knew he wouldn’t be able to invent an excuse to get out of it this time. Rhys had been too tactical, and he had been too quick to offer to leave immediately. Clearly, he had nothing on his plate tonight. 

Steeling his resolve, Azriel gave a sharp nod, rising to his feet. “Yes. I’ll see you tonight, then.”

Rhys rose as well, moving from the fire to clasp Azriel’s shoulder firmly. “Thank you, it means a lot to her that you can make it. To both of us.” Azriel hated that look on his face. Caring, sure, but there was an undercurrent of pity that rubbed him the wrong way.

Stepping deftly out from under Rhys’ hand, Azriel drained his glass and made his way to the door. Usually, he would fold into the shadows and materialise directly into his house, but he felt a walk in the bracing air would do him good. 

Rhys trailed him to the door, gathering his coat from the hall and handing it over. Cauldron, he was worse than Mor with the coddling. 

With a final smile in Rhys’ direction, more of a grimace, really, he headed out into the fading light. 

_______________________________________

Miles away, far north, the sun had long set. Snow swirled along the ground, gathering in steep banks against the roughly hewn cabins hastily erected on the hillside. Far overhead, great black birds circled ominously, the sound of their caws carrying across the barren landscape.

The island was distinctly inhospitable. Craggy and exposed, the ground was a mix between fledgling winter grass and stone so rough they tore the skin if you made the mistake of wandering with less layers than you ought. 

Pulling her roughspun cloak tighter around her, Cerys gazed into the dark, eyes straining to focus on the path ahead of her. She had no idea why she was here, or where here was for that matter.

Her life hadn’t been easy by any stretch of the imagination. The past few hundred years or so had been a never-ending stream of moving from one place to the next. New faces at every stop, never staying long enough to form any real connection. 

Her guardians said it was for her safety, this constant upheaval. Being told she was a hunted, wild thing continuously over the centuries had lost its fright. At this point, she didn’t care if this unnamed enemy came and grabbed her in the night, as long as she could get off this island. 

Her feet continued forward despite her dark thoughts, the cabin finally in sight. She didn’t know what kind of mood Maja would be in, but if she had to guess, she’d wager it’d lean towards sullen and foreboding. Lovely. 

It wasn’t that she harboured resentment towards Maja and her mate Jakub, they were just… difficult to get along with sometime. Maja, especially.

Her main thorn when it came to them was their unwillingness to tell her about why they were constantly on the run, after all these years. And who, exactly, was after her. 

It wasn’t for lack of trying. She had grown adept at needling them for answers, piecing together bits and pieces they had accidentally let slip over the years.

From what she could gather, their mission in life, for reasons she couldn’t work out, was to keep her safe. Years and years ago, Maja sat her down and told her that her entire family had been killed. Beheaded, to be precise. She was the last, and it was paramount they kept her safe. 

Try as she might, Cerys couldn’t remember a thing about the day she was taken from her home. Her last memory of her childhood had been flying through the beloved forests with her mother, setting up camp on a river bank. She remembered the excitement in her young heart, this grand adventure of leaving their well-appointed home for tents beneath the stars and crackling campfires. Her mother helping her fly through the strong wind currents in the mountains. Trepidation and an intense childlike enthusiasm at the prospect of seeing her brother the following day. She didn’t remember being taken, whether it was from her bedroll or plucked directly from the sky earlier in the day. Her mind was completely blank.

A sigh fell unwillingly from her lips as she trudged up to the door. It wouldn’t do to focus on the past. 

Pushing open the door, Cerys slipped her hood off and shook out her long, black hair. Running her fingers through it hastily, fingers snagging in the unruly curls, she looked around for Jakub or Maja. 

“Hello?” She called out, “I just got back. I found some wood we can use for the fire, but only a few pieces. The snow didn’t leave much dry.” Peering through the door into the kitchen, she spotted Maja hunched over a bubbling pot. 

Wiping her hands on her faded tunic, Maja turned towards her. “Very good, that will do for tonight. Why don’t you take a seat and try to warm up.” She gestured towards the table.

Settling down, Cerys absentmindedly poked at the bits of bread sitting on the table. Hard, tasteless. A lot could be said for Maja’s skills on a battlefield, but sadly they didn’t transfer to the kitchen.

“Where’s Danuta?” Cerys asked, picking a part a piece of bread with the goal of swallowing bits whole. Better to force it down than risk her teeth.

Danuta was Jakub and Maja’s daughter. Taller and stronger than any of them, she was as lighthearted and affable as she was rangy. Danuta was Cerys’ only friend in this strange life of hers.

“She’s out trying to catch something to eat with Jakub.” Maja moved to peer out the dirty window, scraping away a layer of grime with her sleeve. “Gods help them, I don’t know what they’ll find that’s remotely edible.”

Cerys pressed her lips together, fighting a laugh. If Maja thought food was inedible, it wasn’t fit to be eaten by buzzards. She sent up a silent prayer that Jakub would offer to cook anything they managed to bring back.

Minutes slipped by as Maja muttered over her pot, which continued to emit smells growing stranger by the second. Cerys settled into her chair, content to watch and warm her feet by the cook pot’s fire. 

Suddenly, a large crash split the room, followed by Jakub’s panicked voice. 

“Maja! Maja, come quick! It’s Danuta,” He panted, voice frantic. Cerys leapt from her seat and headed to see what the commotion was, Maja at her heels. 

Sucking in a breath, she spotted Danuta lying prostrate on the packed dirt floor, blood seeping from a wound on her shoulder. “What happened?” She knelt down, pressing her hands to the would in an attempt to stop the bleeding. 

Maja had gone white as she moved to rifle through their scanty luggage. Pulling out a tightly wrapped bandage, she knocked Cerys’ hands roughly out of the way and began trying to remove Danuta’s cloak.

“She fell down… the obsidian rock by the sea.” Jakub sputtered, hands flapping uselessly. “I didn’t see, it was too dark. She slipped on ice, I think.”

Danuta’s eyes flickered with a moan, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. Her spare hand reached behind her as she struggled to sit upright. Despite Danuta’s lithe frame, she was deceptively strong and all of them moved in tandem to try to press her back flat against the floor. Maja had succeeded in removing the cloak and was in the process of cleaning and tightly winding a bandage over the wound, which mercifully had stopped bleeding quite as heavily. 

She let out a sigh of relief, gazing down at her only daughter. Despite the years she’d been with them, Cerys knew Maja would never look at her that way, with love and care in her eyes. 

“She’ll be ok. It isn’t deep.” Maja moved to place a pillow under Danuta’s ruddy blonde hair, placing a rough blanket across her lower half. 

Danuta let out a breathy chuckle. “Of course I’ll be alright. It’d take more than a flimsy rock to bring me down.” Her eyes met Cerys’, mercifully the haze of pain was quickly retreating from her dark brown eyes, crinkled in the corners in their habitual teasing way. 

Jakub finally seemed to come to his senses, kneeling beside his daughter. “Good, good. Gods, it just happened so quickly. One moment she was there, the next she was sliding off the cliff.”

Maja scowled at him. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been so careless, Jakub,” she retorted in her typical bracing tone. “Anyways, it looks like we’ll have to stay here longer than I planned.” She moved towards the door, pushing it open far enough to stick her head out. 

Her hair whipped around her birdlike shoulders in the current, the same colour as her daughters, but waist length and whisper thin. She closed the door swiftly, a dark mood settling across her features. 

“I don’t like it here. This place has seen evil.”

Cerys fought the eye roll threatening to overtake her, studiously avoiding Danuta’s gaze. Maja always claimed an unnamed ‘evil’ whenever she wanted to leave a place. Danuta and Cerys agreed, privately of course, that the evil was most likely her own paranoia than anything remotely real. 

Maja glanced towards her, familiar distrust marring her features. “Cerys. You take first watch tonight. We’ll be here at least another week so might as well make yourself at home.” She donned her cloak, tucking her brittle hair down the back. “Jakub, come. We need to alert the others.”

Travelling with them, as always, was her ‘protection team.’ Cerys couldn’t help the sarcastic inflection her mind put over the words when she considered the strange amalgamation of people who followed them from place to place.

For some reason, Maja always preferred human soldiers. Maybe it was their short lifespans she found appealing, they never lasted more than a few decades and aged like milk. She enjoyed surrounding herself with people she felt were beneath her.

Settling down with her back against the wall, she considered the prospect of another week in this barren, inhospitable island. It wasn’t as bad as some places we had stayed, true enough. She looked towards Danuta, pleased to find her friend’s face relaxed, long eyelashes resting against her high, freckled cheekbones.

Strangely, and she wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or reality, Cerys felt a whisper of her near forgotten magic trickle across her here on this island. She could almost feel her wings, vanished since she’d been taken, struggling to take form against her back. Try as she might, she’d never been able to summon them away from home. What she wouldn’t give to soar as high as the birds again, to trace mountaintops and float between clouds. 

Focusing, she tried to tap into that tiny kernel of magic she inexplicably felt, deep in her bones. She narrowed her eyes at her outstretched palms, willing her magic to blossom. Something, anything. She’d be content with even a grain of magic at this moment.

Danuta’s rhythmic snores broke the silence, and with it her concentration. But not before, shocking Cerys and kicking her heart into overdrive, a single, sinuous thread of darkness sprang from her palm and wound its way down one of her fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! A few notes on the OC's-
> 
> I wanted Cerys' name to fit with Rhysand's, linguistically. It's also a Welsh originating name, meaning 'love' or 'loved one'. For anyone not super familiar with Welsh pronunciations, it's pronounced 'care-iss'
> 
> Chapter two should be up in the next few days! x


	2. Two

Lingering in the shadows, Azriel surveyed the room, mentally steeling himself for interacting tonight. His eyes caught on the door as Mor swept in, glowing as always in her snug red jumper. Reason number one he didn’t want to be here this evening.

Tracking her movements, she floated around, kissing Feyre’s cheek and making jokes to Cassian, tipping her head back with laughter. Azriel sighed, this wasn’t going to get any easier.

In the past year he had fought tooth and nail to move on. It had been _years._ She wasn’t going to love him like he wanted.

Around six months ago, Mor had sat him down and told him he needed to move on. She didn’t feel for him in that way. Couldn’t love him like he needed, as she put it. For Azriel, it had been another line in the long journal of ways he didn’t measure up.

She continued to move about between people, radiating light and joy. What he saw when he looked at her was someone who didn’t need his particular brand of darkness casting shadow in her wake. Someone so bright and radiant shouldn’t be dampened.

Despite his resolve to move on, he still found it difficult being around her and not giving in to wallowing in those old feelings. He tore his eyes away, materialising in the corner of the room at last.

Elain’s eyes immediately lit up as she spotted him, picking her way over, Lucien trailing her heels. He had once thought he could see something with her, but it was only a passing fancy, quickly overshadowed by her mating bond with Lucien. He held no ill will towards either of them, it was clear they found great happiness and contentment with each other and Azriel could never begrudge anyone for that.

Her hand gently touched his elbow. “How are you? We’ve missed seeing you here,” she said brightly. Lucien slid in behind her shoulder, a smile on his face. This wasn’t so bad, Azriel rationalised as Elain chattered about her efforts keeping her garden thriving in the cold winter months.

From the doorway, Rhys cleared his throat, turning all eyes towards him. “Dinner’s laid out, best come and get some before Cassian and Mor have their way with it,” he said teasingly. Mor sauntered past, hitting him a swift dig on the shoulder on her way.

A large spread greeted them, Azriel could smell the rich spices coming off his favourite lamb dish. Visiting Feyre and Rhysand’s certainly had its benefits.

Once they were settled, Rhys turned his attention to him, stealing a roast potato off his plate. “Do you want Nuala and Cerridwen to accompany you tomorrow?”

Azriel chewed thoughtfully, considering. “No, I’ll be fine on my own. You said it was just a reconnaissance mission, correct?”

“Should be. I haven’t heard any reports of violence or strange magic, anything like that. I’m just curious to know who’s moved in.” Rhys toyed with his food, hesitating. Clearly there was more he wanted to say.

“Az… the thing is,” he began. Azriel bit back a sigh. He think he knew where this was headed. “I think tomorrow should be your last mission for a while. A few months, maybe.”

Azriel sat back, shocked. “What?” He demanded, belatedly realising how loud his voice had risen as everyone’s eyes turned to him, the room falling silent. Of all the things he imagined Rhys saying, this wasn’t one of them.

Avoiding their gaze, he focused his attention on Rhys. “Why? I don’t understand.” He truly didn’t. If he wasn’t going off on missions, escaping Velaris, he truly would have nothing to get him up in the morning.

Rhys shifted, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go in the other room.” He made to rise, catching Feyre’s eye and nodding. Azriel was furious. Not only for Rhys telling him he couldn’t work, but for doing it in front of everyone like this. If there’s one thing he hated, it was openly not being in control of a situation.

Shadows flew up his hands, engulfing him as he followed Rhys into the sitting room. He watched as he poured them two glasses of whiskey, noting the bottle as one of his finer blends. Clearly, Rhys wanted to butter him up for what he was about to say. He gestured towards the seats by the fire.

Rhys sat, resting his serious gaze on Azriel. Beneath the solemn resolve, Az noticed the vein of concern lighting his violet eyes. Azriel fought to keep his face smooth and empty.

“You haven’t been yourself for a while, brother. We’re all worried about you. I’m not taking you off missions on a whim, I really think you need to take some time off, relax.” A small smile pulled at his lips, “I can’t remember the last time you took time away that wasn’t as the spymaster.”

Fighting a rising tide of anger, Azriel leaned forward. “I don’t see how it’s your place to assume what’s best for me,” he nearly snarled. Rhys leaned back, shock colouring his features at Azriel’s tone. He so rarely raised his voice or let any emotion effect his words, Rhys had every right to be taken aback.

His mouth opened, gathering his thoughts. “You’re right, and I’m not saying this as your High Lord, but as your friend.” Rhys’ eyes flickered to the doorway leading to the dining room and lowered his voice. “I know things haven’t been… normal since Mor shared her feelings.”

That was the last thing Azriel wanted to talk about, he fought the shame surging to the surface. He refused to let Rhys see him flushed and embarrassed.

He felt a tap on his mental shields, Rhys wanting in. Begrudgingly, he opened just enough for Rhys to speak into his head.

“ _We all love you, Az, and hate seeing you like this. Mor, especially. She cares for you deeply, even if it’s not the way you’d like.”_

Azriel had heard enough. He did not need to be coddled. He swiftly moved to his feet, shadows sweeping up his body in preparation to leave. “I don’t agree with any of this. I am absolutely fine, and do not need a break.” The flash of hurt on his brother’s face gave him pause. He sighed, willing to concede slightly so he didn’t leave on such bad terms. “After tomorrow’s mission, we’ll talk. I’m not promising to take time off, but I’m willing to hear you out.”

Rhys nodded slowly, standing up next to him. His hand reached out through the shadows to clasp his shoulder. “Thank you, brother. If you need anything tomorrow, you know how to reach me.”

Rhysand’s wide eyes, lit with concern and care, were the last thing Azriel saw as he folded fully into shadow.

_____________________________________________________________

Casting a furtive look over her shoulder, Cerys quietly shut the door behind her and headed into the blue dawn.

Wind whipped her hair into snarl, she could already feel her face turning flushed in the freezing air. Today promised to be just as bitterly cold and brutal as yesterday, here on this gods forsaken island. Despite the weather, her heart felt lighter than it had in years.

She felt magic last night. _Magic!_ She could hardly believe it, her heart had utterly stopped the second she saw that miraculous tendril of night incarnate slide through her fingers. Today she would see if she could do it again, see if she could summon wings.

Hurrying along the path, she made her way to the cliffs overlooking the angry sea, waves beating ceaselessly against the rocks below. Reaching the edge, she stood poised, face turned towards the sun rising over the sea.

She cast her mind back to when she could summon her magic, her wings, as easy as breathing. How she would stretch them wide and leap fearlessly off cliffs such as these. She hoped that standing precariously on the cliff would spark those memories and make summoning her wings easier. Cerys had no clue how long it would take, but she wasn’t leaving this spot until she had done everything she could to try.

Hours passed, the sky brightening from a bruised purple into a smooth, even grey. Snow began swirling around her, sticking to her black curls and freezing her fingers.

Cerys knew there she couldn’t stay out here much longer, Maja had surely noticed she was gone by now and would be setting out to find her. She was rarely allowed to head off on her own unless it was to accomplish a task Maja ordered.

Fighting the rising tide of disappointment, Cerys redoubled her focus on that seed of magic she felt beating inside her. Pulling and tugging at it in desperation. Straining to summon a bit of it, _anything._

Suddenly, her shoulders whipped back, pulled by the force of her wings slowly materialising in the bitter wind. Her eyes snapped open has her wings became fully corporeal. She felt everything in that moment, the sting of the brutal cold against their sensitive membrane, her long hair sliding over them and catching on their clawed tips. Her back muscles straining, out of practice with hoisting them high about the ground.

Cerys let out a loud whoop of laughter, arms spread open. Her head tilted up, wings spread wide and glorious, catching the wind buffeting off the cliffs and lifting her heels off the ground. _Her wings!_

_______________________________________________________________

Azriel left early in the morning, before the sun was fully up. He skipped across the Night Court from shadow to shadow, making his way to the northern banks in preparation for finding the island. Rhys had given him the rough location, but there was a handful of islands in that area that could be the one he was looking for.

His mood was still black from the previous night’s confrontation with Rhysand. He had tossed and turned all night, mulling over Rhys’ reasons for wanting him to take a break. He grudgingly admitted maybe some time off might be nice. He could head to his home deep in the Illyrian mountains, take some time to rest and unwind.

As he moved across the Court, he came to the conclusion his anger was less about the prospect of taking time away from missions, and more about the way Rhys had gone about it. In Azriel’s opinion, using Mor’s rejection as reasoning behind it was below the belt. It wasn’t his business.

His mouth set in a firm line, the shadowsinger finally reached the northern coastline. He always loved coming up this far north, despite the brutal temperatures. He loved the inhospitable nature of it, the exposed shape of the land, sharp and unyielding. Relished in the way the waves beat against the shore, not stopping for anything. It was a place unchanged by wars and petty drama, moved only by nature and the passage of time.

Azriel paused, casting his shadows wide, feeling for life on the islands too far off the coast for his eyes to reach. The next hour was spent in this way, his eyes closed as he searched for this mysterious group taking up residence in Rhys’ lands.

Finally, he located them. About an hour’s flight straight ahead, if he had to guess. Searching around, he gathered there was around eight of them. Maybe ten. His shadows couldn’t tell him anything too distinct at this distance, couldn’t give him a clear picture, just vague shapes and numbers.However, it was enough for him to take to the air and head north.

He passed the time flying by emptying his mind as best her could, letting the anger and resentment seep out of him. Going into missions with a head full and distracted was a recipe for disaster, even on a simple scouting trip like this one.

Up ahead, the island slowly started to materialise out of the clouds. Rugged and sharp, its cliffs fell into the sea in a crumbling rush of stones, overlaid with snow.

Azriel spread out his wings, banking around the edge of the island, eyes trained for signs of life. He quickly manipulated his shadows and magic around him to make him invisible to anyone who happened to be staring up at the sky.

As he made his way around the island’s eastern tip, he spotted a lone figure standing on the very edge of one of the hulking cliffs. He flew closer, curious as to why someone would be risking life and limb to perch so close to the edge.

The person slowly became clearer as he approached. To his surprise, he noticed vast wings spreading from her back, long hair whipping around her face. Were those Illyrian wings?

This trip was becoming stranger by the second as he touched down yards away from her, completely silent and wrapped in shadow. He moved closer.

She was a female, fully grown but her face bore no marking of advancing age. Perhaps only a few centuries old, at most. She was slender and around medium height with long, blue-black curly hair whipping around her furiously. Azriel’s eyes roved over her, mind memorising her details to report back to Rhys. In the back of his mind, he noted a familiarity about her features, but couldn’t quite place where from.

And the wings, he couldn’t forget the wings. Now that he was closer, he could tell they were definitely Illyrian wings, perfect and unblemished. It was rare to see Illyrians with completely scar free wings, which hers were. She hadn’t been clipped either, Azriel noticed with relief.

Her wings trembled, drooping towards the ground. Azriel wondered why this female clearly was unused to holding her wings aloft. It was second nature to most Illyrians, having had their wings since birth. His head cocked, studying her.

A shadow wound its way into his ear. “ _She’s not bad on the eyes,”_ it said mischievously. Azriel hastily shoved it away, now definitely wasn’t the time.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement up the hill from where the female stood poised. He whipped his head around, searching for whoever it was that was creeping up on them.

A woman stood, long brittle hair whipping around her, arrow knocked and pointed directly at the girl’s outstretched wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Please leave any thoughts you have in comments, I'd love to hear them!
> 
> If anyone's curious for a visual, I based the look and location of the islands on the Faroe Islands off the coast of Scotland :)


	3. Three

Every instinct in Azriel screamed to protect this girl from the danger of an arrow through her wings. Her beautiful, unblemished wings. Barely pausing to think, he shot a blue shield across the cliff to rise up between them, moving quickly towards the hunter and her bow.

He reached the female before she fully had time to register his presence. Landing with a crash of wings and snow, he ripped the bow from her hands and had her arms behind her back in a flash.

Down the hill, the girl whirled, eyes wide. She stood still as a statue, her wings vanishing. “Maja?” The girl called franticly, stalking towards them.

“Don’t come any closer. She was trying to shoot you,” Azriel called, suddenly desperate to stop her in her tracks. Bent over in front of him, his captive seethed, breathing heavily.

“I demand you drop me this instant!,” she cried, struggling to wrench her arms free. “She is mine, _mine!”_ Was she deranged? Not minutes ago she was preparing to rip the girl’s wings to shreds now she wanted Azriel to let her free?

Moving closer, the girl had slowed her pace but still kept her eyes trained on the struggling female. Maja, Azriel gathered. Her eyes moved between him and the bow that lay snapped at their feet, brow creasing with confusion.

Maja struggled harder, twisting her body and snarling her teeth menacingly. Her leg shot out suddenly, heel driving up towards Azriel’s groin.

Deftly sidestepping her before she could make contact, Azriel forced her to the ground. As much as he didn’t like manhandling females, this one was a real piece of work.

Securing Maja beneath his knee, he looked up into the girl’s face. She was standing directly over them now, staring down at Maja in horror.

“Where did your wings go?” Azriel demanded. Why that was his first question, he’ll never know.

Her eyes flicked down, guarded and cool. “They’re gone… I mean, they were never there.” She switched her tactic, gaze suddenly earnest as her strange eyes bore into Azriel’s. They were a remarkable colour, very pale grey with hints of violet when the light hit, almost luminescent, and fringed with thick, dark lashes.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone of my wings. Please.” Azriel’s brow contracted, she may be an odd creature, but he would honour her demand, as much as it baffled him.

“As you wish,” he schooled his tone into impassivity. “What’s your name?”

She sighed, crouched now inspecting the discarded bow. “Cerys.” It fit her, somehow.

“Ok, Cerys. Who is this female? Is she your mother?”

Her eyes shuttered at that, straightening out of her crouch to look into his face. “No, she’s a guardian of sorts,” her full mouth pursed. Fascinating. What could a girl like her need a guardian for on a desolate island?

“Right,” Azriel said, adopting the stern tone of the spymaster with ease. “If she’s your guardian why was she trying to maim you?” He nudged the broken bow in her direction. Maja seemed to have given up struggling, though her back still moved with pants under Azriel’s knee.

“I… I don’t know.” She wrung her hands, looking nervous. Azriel sensed she had a few ideas but didn’t trust him enough to say. He would do the same, in her position.

Hauling Maja to her feet, he turned his questions on her. Maja’s eyes shone with fury, jaw tightly clenched as she attempted to scald Azriel with her gaze alone. “Why were you trying to shoot Cerys?” He felt a little dumb with his line of questioning, despite the seriousness of the situation, but the girl’s gaze unsettled him. He couldn’t focus properly.

Maja said nothing, however she did swing her head back and launch a great gob of spit in Azriel’s direction. Cerys gasped in horror, taking a step back quickly.

Azriel had experienced worse, of course, but there was something about this female that rankled him. Nobody showed him that level of disrespect and lived through the consequences.

Moving quickly, he drove his elbow into Maja’s stomach, causing her to double over and wretch. Azriel granted her a moment of reprieve before he pulled her upright, repeating his question.

Her eyes blazed with a new fury. “That is none of your business. As I said, she’s _mine._ I can discipline her as I choose,” she spat. Azriel glanced between them, coming to a conclusion. He didn’t like what was going on here, didn’t trust Maja. Most of all, he didn’t want to leave Cerys with this madwoman.

Moving Maja forward roughly, he gestured for Cerys to walk ahead. “Lead the way to your camp. I’m not finished questioning.”

She complied, bundling her cloak around her and setting off through the snow.

As they moved, Azriel called out in his mind to Rhys, hoping her was still within range in the Night Court. Feeling him down their connection, he quickly explained the situation and let him know he might need back up.

_“I can’t leave Velaris for long, I’ll winnow Cassian to the northern coast and he’ll fly over. Shouldn’t be more than an hour.”_

Azriel let him know that was fine, he could more than handle himself for the hour. Eyes on Cerys’ back, they continued making their way through the snow.

_____________________________________________________________

Cerys was absolutely reeling. One moment she was in utter rapture at her wings finally materialising after all these years, the next she was staring down at Maja, trapped beneath a stranger’s knee, a bow at her side.

Had Maja truly tried to shoot her? It wasn’t as if they had the best relationship, and Cerys couldn’t say she ever fully trusted the female, but _shooting_ her through with an arrow? Surely that went against her oath to protect Cerys.

She trudged along, thoughts turning to the winged stranger. Her heart felt heavy, his dark hair and wings reminded her so much of her long lost home. How did he find them and, more importantly, who was he?

Her fear of him was undeniable. The way he had swiftly taken out Maja was shocking, she hadn’t even sensed him watching her before he had Maja disabled and on the ground. Maja was a fierce opponent, Cerys had seen her take down enemies with ease, but the stranger had made it look effortless. She shuddered.

She truly had no idea why Maja had tried to shoot her. Despite their differences and constant bickering, Cerys felt Maja had her safety in mind at all time. Things weren’t adding up, to say the least.

Their ramshackle cabin came into view, smoke pumping out the chimney. Jakub and Danuta must be in. Cerys wondered if they had conspired with Maja, if they knew where she was going when she grabbed her bow and left the house. She would be devastated if Danuta had any part in it, she was the only person Cerys had left who she trusted.

Maja was struggling in earnest now, Cerys heard the telltale noises of cloth ripping as Maja’s cries of anger were swiftly stifled. Looking over her shoulder, she noted the pieces of black fabric now wound over her mouth and expertly tying her hands together.

She let out a soft snort. Whoever he was, he tied a mean knot.

They reached the cabin at last and Cerys whirled to face them, meeting the stranger’s gaze. “I don’t know who you are or what you want. But I need your word you won’t harm anyone unless they attack first, or I tell you to.” She desperately didn’t want any harm to come to Danuta. Jakub and Maja, however, she was more lenient about.

His eyes searched her, face completely unreadable. At last, he replied. “Fine. Unless I’m provoked, no harm will come.” He didn’t seem happy about agreeing to her demands.

Sighing, she pushed open the door. Danuta was sitting by the fire, curled up in a blanked nursing a mug of tea. There was no sign of Jakub, mercifully.

Looking up, Danuta shot to her feet, blanket flying off and mug splashing over her hands at her haste. “Who’s this? What happened?” Maja squealed, her voice barely audible against her gag.

Cerys brushed past the stranger and Maja roughly. “Maja tried to shoot me. With a bow and arrow.” No point skirting around the details.

 _“What?”_ Danuta exclaimed, mouth falling open. “Why? I don’t understand, I mean, you’re family, Cerys. That makes _no_ sense.” Her gaze flitted between Cerys and her mother, now forced to her knees at the centre of the room.

Cerys shot her a withering look, family indeed. Luckily, she was saved from replying by the stranger butting in. “I need a chair to tie her to.” He looked around the room, gaze coming to rest on Danuta, eyebrow raised.

She fluttered her hands around, clearly struggling between loyalty to her mother and the stranger’s commanding tone. “I’ll get it,” Cerys muttered, moving into the kitchen to grab one of the wooden chairs. She drug it out, positioning it where the stranger could easily reach it.

Working with practiced ease, he manoeuvred Maja into the seat and adjusted her bonds to bind her firmly to the chair.

He stepped back, looking critically at Danuta. Assessing her guilt. Cerys quickly stepped in front of her friend. “I trust her. She would never hurt me. Whatever this is,” chin pointing at Maja, “Danuta played no part.”

The stranger’s gaze roved over her face, deciding. Whatever he saw made him swiftly duck his chin, agreeing to her terms, at least for the moment.

“I have a friend coming, help with the interrogation…” Cerys didn’t like the sound of that one bit. He looked down at Maja. “Until then, feel like speaking?”

Maja shot him a death glare. Cerys had seen that look before, it usually preceded a lashing, verbally or otherwise.

“Thought not. Here’s what’s going to happen.” He shifted into a crouch, voice cold. “You’re on Night Court lands and, unfortunately for you, I witnessed you attempting to murder our friend here,” his gaze flicked to her. “That means either you provide me with an adequate reason for your actions, or I take you, all of you, back with me to the Court of Nightmares.”

Cerys felt like her legs were about to give out, the room spun violently around her. Surely she didn’t hear him correctly, _Night Court_ lands? Vaguely, she registered hands on her. Soft, strong. Danuta helping lower her to the ground. Her breaths came in pants. She didn’t hear him correctly. There was no way.

Fear washed over her, words from long ago filling her mind. Her family was dead, she was the last one, hunted for who she was. This male could be here to finish the job, kill the last remaining member of her beloved family.

She skid along the floor, feet pushing her backwards into the corner, hands drawing protectively in front of her body. This couldn’t be happening. She wasn’t ready to die.

Danuta hovered around her, whispering calming words and running her hands through Cerys’ curls. The stranger looked at her with shock obvious on his face. Dimly, Cerys registered that if he wanted her dead she would be already.

Forcing steadying breaths into her lungs, she slowly straightened against the wall, eyes catching on Maja’s face. She had never seen it so bloodless, her eyes looked ready to pop out of her head as she gazed at the stranger, fear rolling off her in waves.

Just then, a noise sounded from outside. The stranger’s eyes flashed to the door, shooting Maja a menacing glance before moving to the threshold. He flung the door wide and another winged male swept into the room. He was larger and more rugged than his friend, hair snarled and wild against his face. Brilliant red stones gleamed on his body.

Tucking his wings in close, the second stranger moved closer, eyes scanning around him. Snagging on her face, his brows retracted, confusion colouring his features.

“Az… who’s this?”

_____________________________________________________________

Azriel was glad Cassian was here. There was something amiss in this dank cabin, something didn’t add up. He couldn’t understand Cerys’ reaction when he said he was from the Night Court. Surely, with Illyrian wings like hers she knew where he was from.

“Cassian, this is Maja, Danuta and Cerys,” he gestured to them in turn. “I was about to see if Maja had a reason for attempting to shoot Cerys, or else we’re all going to the Hewn City.” Cassian’s eyebrows rose. Rhys must have filled him in on their situation, but Azriel wasn’t sure if he was privy to all the details. That would have to wait.

He bent down to meet Maja’s eyes, noting the fury had been overtaken by palpable fear. Good, she’d be easier to break this way. He removed her gag, taking no great pains to do so gently.

“Ready to talk?” Her lips pursed, he could nearly hear the cogs in her mind spin. “I’m not going anywhere near the Hewn City,” she said firmly. So she had heard of their reputation, that was interesting indeed.

“Yeah? Then you’d better get talking.” Over his shoulder, Cassian removed a blade from his hip and began cleaning it. Maja’s eyes flickered nervously between them. Her fear seemed to get the better of her, coupled by the sight of Danuta still soothing Cerys in the corner. “Look,” she lowered her voice, clearly thinking she could try to menace Azriel into going easier on her. “I thought she had been taken over by a dark magic, sprouting wings like that. Ghastly things,” she said under her breath, eyes raking over his.

“She’s nothing special, a common orphan I picked up years ago and took in. I thought by shooting those unnatural wings I could stop the dark magic from taking over her body.” Azriel seriously doubted that. He could sense dark magic easily, and there was no tang of anything untoward. He switched his line of questioning to the girl, Cerys.

“Where did you find her, you said you picked her up. I want to know where.” A girl summoning Illyrian wings from thin air had to have some connection to the Night Court, to Illyria. He was sure of it.

Her eyes flicked nervously over Cerys and back again. “On the continent, many years ago.” Azriel’s shadows gathered over his shoulders, into his ears. _“She lies.”_

No shit. He sighed, this was turning into far more than a simple reconnaissance mission. He looked over his shoulder at Cassian, shifting to his feet. “You chat to her for a while, I want to talk to the girl,” He tilted his head towards Cerys, still huddled in the corner.

Cassian nodded, eyes shifting to Maja. She shuddered at the violence in his gaze.

Azriel made his way over to Cerys, smoothing his face and lightening his tone. “Can I speak to you?” He gestured towards the kitchen. “In there.”

She nodded, steeling herself. Waving off his hand offered to help her to her feet, she stalked off towards the other room. Despite her palpable fear, Azriel noticed her straight spine and sure steps, his regard of her growing.

She seated herself against the table, crossing her arms and turning to face him. His eyes roved over her face, noting pale skin, probably from lack of proper sunlight than anything else. She had a faint smattering of freckles across her upturned nose, full lips and sharp cheekbones. Again, he was struck by the familiarity of her features, but couldn’t place it.

Adopting a casual stance, eager to keep her relatively at ease, Azriel opened his mouth to begin his questioning. Before he could begin, she spoke up.

“Are you really from the Night Court?” His brows contracted, why would he lie? “Yes, I am.”

Her breath quickened, he recognised the signs of another panic attack on the horizon. Azriel moved towards her swiftly, helping her into a nearby chair.

She waved a hand at him dismissively. “Sorry, I just haven’t seen anyone from the Night Court in many years,” she blew out a breath. “Centuries, really.”

Now he was truly confused. “You are Illyrian though, aren’t you?” She turned her eyes down, fiddling with the hem of her cloak. “Half,” she admitted, shifting uncomfortably. “Won’t you tell me who you are? I don’t even know your name.”

He could offer her that, at least. “My name’s Azriel.”

She wriggled in her seat. “Azriel,” she repeated. He fought the stirring he felt at her soft voice rolling over his name. “You’re a shadowsinger.” Surprised she knew the term, he nodded.

She let a soft smile light her features and held out her palm. Brow furrowed in concentration, seconds later a tendril of darkness seeped out of her hand and melted off a finger. “I’m not a full shadowsinger, but I can manipulate darkness. Well, I used to.” She frowned, watching the darkness continue to slide through her fingers. With a sigh, she shook off the magic and tucked her palms under her thighs, turning her face towards his.

“Where were you born, Cerys?” She glanced away at his question, shifting in her seat. Her throat bobbed as she thought, clearly working out whether to trust him.

She sat up straight, eyes meeting his. “I was born in the Night Court.” He swallowed. “What took you away?” He asked, voice velvety soft. Something deep inside him told him this was the question that would help unlock this mystery. His eyes held hers, searching.

Nearly whispering, she opened her mouth and began to speak.

“I was taken, many years ago. For my own safety,” her chin nodded out towards the other room. “Maja and Jakub rescued me, I don’t know how or from who, exactly. All I know is my whole family was murdered, and their job is to keep me safe.” She said it all in a breathy rush.

Azriel considered this, thinking back to prominent murder cases in years passed. “How long ago?”

She loosened a breath, eyes scanning his face. “I’m not sure, exactly. Maybe around four or five centuries ago. We’ve been on the run ever since, never staying in one place longer than a month.”

Interesting. He leaned back, crossing his arms, thinking hard. The only case that came to mind was Rhys’ family, his mother and sister brutally murdered by the Spring Court, his father not soon after. Azriel had barely known Rhys at this point, their friendship new and untested.

He let his eyes linger on her face. Surely not, he thought as he realised why her features looked familiar. The slant of her eyebrows, the precise shade of blue-black in her hair, the violent tint to her eyes. Perhaps most damning of all: her wings. Magnificent, Illyrian wings. Able to be vanished and recalled at will. Just like Rhys’.

It hit him all at once. Somehow, impossibly, Cerys’ was Rhysand’s sister.


	4. Four

Cerys wondered why the stranger, _Azriel,_ she reminded herself, was staring at her with such a peculiar look across his face.

In the short time she had known him, he didn’t strike her as someone who frequently let his emotions show on his face. Yet, as she sat staring at him, she could see shock, confusion, and an undercurrent of hope, bright and piercing, flash across his elegant face.

They sat that way for close to a minute. Her, trying to work out what she had said to make him react like this. Him, eyes laser focused, mind clearly running away from him.

Very strange, indeed.

Finally, he blinked, coming to. “You’re coming with me, back to the Nigh Court,” he said, unyielding. She stood immediately, moving into his space.

“Why? What about Maja and Danuta? You promised not to hurt her,” her voice pitched, she would do anything to protect Danuta.

“I don’t care about them,” he said roughly, grabbing her arm and hauling her into the front room. “Hey!” She exclaimed, wrenching her arm free. “ _Don’t_ touch me. I can walk just fine on my own.”

He nodded, shooting her a stern look out of the corner of his eye. Azriel moved across the room towards the other Illyrian. Cassian, she thought.

They conversed in low tones, frequently glancing over at her. Cassian’s face changed swiftly to mirror Azriel’s from moments ago. Shock, confusion, and that odd glow of hope.

Cerys moved to stand by Danuta’s side. She was crouched down, trying to convince Maja to tell her why she had tried to shoot Cerys, to no avail. She let out a soft snort, Danuta would have better luck getting a stone to talk.

Cassian reached out, grasping Azriel’s shoulder firmly, nodding. They both made their way over, faces composed and unreadable. Azriel pushed his foot against Maja’s chair, tipping it back enough so she had no choice but to meet his eyes.

“Cassian is bringing you and your mate, Jakub, I presume,” he glanced up at Cerys for confirmation. She nodded, his attention turning back to Maja “…to the Hewn City to answer for your crimes.” Maja’s head began to shake rapidly, back and forth. Azriel leaned down until his mouth met Maja’s ear, speaking too softly for Cerys to hear.

Maja wretched back like she’d been shocked, breathing hard. “ _No, no, no, no,”_ she repeated desperately. “You don’t understand! I had no choice!” Her cries quickly shut off as Azriel replaced the gag over her mouth. He shook his head, disgusted.

Cerys looked over at Danuta questioningly. Her face was confused, giving a quick shake of her head to answer Cerys’ unspoken question. Cerys wondered what Azriel had said to make Maja react so violently.

He paused, eyes going unfocused. Continuing to stare off at nothing, his brow furrowed and lips pursed with displeasure. Was he conversing with someone in his mind? Cerys knew of Daemati, of course. Her brother always told her with practice she might become one herself, but she never got around to trying. Perhaps back at the Night Court she would get a chance. Which brought up another question.

Straightening her spine, she approached Azriel. “May I speak to you a moment?” Gesturing over to Maja. “Alone.”

He nodded, pulling out of his revere and pushing open the door to outside. She followed him out, wrapping her arms tightly around her body in an attempt to ward off the cold. Gods, it truly was frigid out here.

Shutting the door behind them, Azriel turned to her and frowned, noting her violent shivering. He wordlessly encased them in a blue tinged bubble, stopping the wind from entering and raising the temperature a few degrees. At least he was somewhat gentlemanly, all things considered.

She sighed, wholly unsure how to tell him this in a way that made sense. “I told you my family was murdered and that’s why I was taken, to keep me safe,” he nodded slowly. “Well, I believe that whoever murdered them is after me, to finish the job.” His hazel eyes scanned hers, face betraying nothing. She waited for him to reply before going on. He continued to stand in stoic silence, saying nothing.

Letting out an exasperated breath, she continued. “I’m worried that if I go back to the Night Court they’ll find me and try to kill me.” Gesturing around, “We live in remote places like this to keep me alive, to keep others from dying trying to protect me. I… I don’t want you or anyone else to die keeping me safe. I think I should stay here.”

He let out a snort, mouth quirking up slightly on one side. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Cerys.” Was he making fun of her? He turned on his heel, making for the door back inside. Indignant, she reached out and grabbed his arm, spinning him back around.

“Did you hear me? I’m being hunted, Azriel. For years. My family is _dead_ , for gods sake.” She was livid now, how dare he treat her situation so dismissively.

He paused, eyes boring into hers. “Trust me, Cerys. You’ll be completely fine.” Once again, she got the impression he wasn’t telling her the full truth, and it infuriated her. He turned back towards the door, this time she let him go. Tucking his wings in tight, he moved into the house without a backwards glance, taking his shield with him.

Standing unprotected in the cold, Cerys considered her situation. She could chance running right now, but she wouldn’t last long in this weather. Besides, she was certain Azriel would have her back within minutes.

Fleeing swiftly crossed out, she considered giving in and going back to the Night Court. Home. She couldn’t deny the thought of it filled her with excitement, it had been so long. Her mind conjured up memories of vast mountain ranges, endless forests with crystal clear pools for bathing. The moonstone palace. Velaris.

As compelling as she found the visions, she couldn’t bear the thought of the Night Court without her family. Where would she stay? Would anyone recognise her? Gods, would she have to _rule?_ Her thoughts spun out in a panic.

Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she never told Azriel who her family was. To him, she was just a common orphan, as Maja had insisted. Maybe he thought she was a full Illyrian. She shuddered at the prospect. As much as she loved her wings and was proud of her Illyrian heritage, their villages weren’t exactly hospitable to a female with no family, no husband.

Cerys shifted from foot to foot, weighing her options. She didn’t feel as she had much of a choice, Azriel and Cassian were clearly seasoned warriors and she was virtually defenceless without her magic. If they wanted to risk their own lives bringing her back, so be it.

As much as the prospect filled her with trepidation, she would do it. She would go back to the Night Court, back home. Even if it killed her.

_____________________________________________________________

Inside the house, Azriel was working out the details with Cassian. He would fly Cerys alone to the mainland and bring her straight into Velaris. Cassian was going to wait with Maja and Danuta for Jakub to get back. Danuta had informed them he was out looking for food and would be back before the sun set.

Azriel had begrudgingly asked Rhys to send Mor to winnow them to the Hewn City. She would be here soon, and Azriel was keen to be in the sky before she showed up.

The only thing they needed to work out, was how to inform Rhys of his sister’s miraculous reappearance. So far, they could only agree that it needed to be somewhere Rhys felt comfortable, which left Velaris as the clear option. The House of Wind, for its seclusion.

What they were currently bickering about was when to tell Rhys who they were bringing. Cassian thought it best that they tell Feyre immediately and let her break the news. Azriel disagreed, rationalising that Rhys would immediately set off to intercept Azriel and Cerys on their journey back, cornering them somewhere in the Night Court. It was easier, he explained, to have their reunion take place somewhere comfortable and safe. Neither of them knew how Rhys was going to react.

Cassian grudgingly agreed at last, motioning Azriel away to collect Cerys. Looking around, he realised she was still outside where he left her. Cauldron, she must be nearly frozen by now.

He opened the door, looking around for her. She was leaning against the wall to his left, head tilted back and eyes screwed shut. Her hair surrounded her shoulders and chest in a flurry of black curls. Azriel wondered how he didn’t see it instantly, how much she looked like Rhys.

He cleared his throat and her eyes snapped open. He raised an eyebrow. Cerys narrowed her eyes in return and pushed past him into the house.

“Cerys, wait.” He gently folded his hand over her shoulder, turning her around to face him. Standing up on the raised threshold, her face was nearly level with his, close enough to share breath. Once again, he was struck by the mesmerising shade of her eyes. They looked particularly violet in the late afternoon light, far lighter that Rhys’.

“I wanted to apologise. I didn’t mean for you to feel I was slighting your concerns over going back to the Night Court.” Her eyes fell, lashes brushing against her cheeks. Azriel wasn’t usually prone to fits of empathy, but something about this female tugged at his heart. He didn’t like seeing her anxious.

“You have my word, no harm will come to you.” He paused, considering his next words. “In fact, if you’d like to go to another court, the continent, cauldron, even this island after the trial, I will take you. I promise.” She looked up, eyes searching his face. Satisfied with what she saw, she slowly nodded. “Ok. I will go.” Her shoulders drew back firmly.

“Good. In that case, we need to get going. Is there anything you’re bringing with you?” She nodded quickly, turning away from him and moving inside.

Azriel remained outside, eyes scanning around him. The last thing he wanted was for Mor to show up and catch him unaware.

He heard shouting coming from inside, sounds of a scuffle. Opening the door, he spotted Cerys in Cassian’s face, gesturing wildly towards Danuta who sat bound next to her bother. Azriel stifled a groan, he forgot to tell Cassian Danuta wasn’t a suspect, at least not at the moment. He would honour Cerys’ wishes.

“Untie her and let her up,” Cassian’s head whipped towards him. “She’s not under arrest.” He shook his head at Cassian when he opened his mouth to protest. Cerys looked at Cassian pointedly, arms crossed. Raising her eyebrows, she tapped her foot impatiently. Azriel had to hand it to her, she certainly wasn’t afraid to stand up for her friend.

Cassian rolled his eyes and bent to untie Danuta, who sprang to her feet immediately, rubbing her wrists. She was maybe an inch shorter than Cassian and seemed to possess more than a modicum of his fiery personality, gracing him with a collection of colourful expletives.

Azriel chuckled quietly, content to wait for Cerys outside. His brother would certainly have his hands full waiting for Mor.

Cerys pushed the door open after a few minutes, joining him outside. She had wrapped up in a thick cloak, he was glad to see. Her hair had been roughly braided back, leaving dark tendrils swirling over her face. Azriel pulled his eyes away and moved to scan the sky. It should take them less than an hour with the tailwind to make it to the coast. From there, he could winnow them both to Velaris.

Holding out his hands, he pasted a welcoming smile on his face, keen to help Cerys feel comfortable jumping into the arms of a virtual stranger.

She scowled at him distrustfully, stepping into his arms despite her obvious qualms. He tucked one arm under her knees, the other under her back to grip her waist, holding her to his chest. Pressed together, he caught a whiff of her scent. Light, clean amber mixed with an undertone of a foresty, wooded smell. Definitely not unpleasant.

He spread his wings and took off, launching them both into the sky. With a boom of his wings, they sailed over the cliffs and up through the low lying clouds, shrouding them in mist.

To his surprise, she leaned out of his arms, eyes fixed below as they ascended. Most people he carried would tuck themselves as tightly to him as possible for fear of falling. Not Cerys, he noticed with a smile. She seemed to relish it, her eyes lit up and joy taking over her features.

“Do you miss flying?” Azriel had to pull her close for her to hear. She drug her eyes off the sea below to meet his. “Very much. That’s what I’ve missed most of my magic, the wings.” She graced him with a breathtaking smile, tugging at something deep in Azriel.

“I imagine you’ll be able to summon them again, when we’re on the mainland.” He thought she’d be able to do a lot more than that, but didn’t feel it was his place to share that with her. She sighed, happier then he’d seen her thus far. “Yes, I think I’ll be able to. Whether or not I remember how to fly is a different story.” Her face fell slightly.

Azriel wracked his brains for something to say to get that smile back on her face. He had wondered whether or not to tell her about Rhys. Would it make it easier, knowing who was waiting in Velaris? He wasn’t sure it was his place, didn’t want to take it away from Rhys.

Switching tactics, he thought maybe talking about her family might prepare her for her reunion. “Tell me about your family, if you’d like.” She shifted, tucking her head against his chest, keeping out of the cold.

“I was barely fully grown when I was taken,” she sighed, “it was so long ago. Yet, I remember them clear as anything.” Azriel pulled her tighter to his chest, shielding her.

“My mother was Illyrian, as you might’ve guessed from the wings. Lowborn, she was about to have her wings clips when my father spotted her and the mating bond snapped into place.” Her voice trailed off, body suddenly stiffening in his arms. “My father was… absent mostly. With his heir secured in my brother, he didn’t have much time for me, for any of us. He was quite, ah, high up in his work.” Her face flushed. She didn’t want him to know her father was High Lord.

“And your brother?” Azriel pressed. A soft smile lit her face fondly. “My brother, yes. Growing up he was my best friend. Confident as anything, nothing could go wrong in his eyes,” her tone was warm, reminiscing.

“I remember when my wings were first strong enough to fly higher than a few measures off the ground.” She let out a sudden laugh, shaking her head. “He flew to the top of the tallest tree in the area, perching on the tip like a great, overgrown bat. He had brought a bit of my favourite orange cake with him and sat there eating it, licking his fingers after every bite. It wasn’t long until I grew so angry that I flew up myself to push him off and claim the cake for myself.” She giggled, eyes bright and teasing.

“He was always like that, encouraging me to do anything I set my mind to, even if his methods were a bit… unconventional.” That sounded like Rhys, all right.

Azriel smiled down at her, “you must miss him very much.” At this, her face fell slightly. “Yes, of course I do. More than anyone. He would’ve made a great Hi… I mean, I wish I could have seen how his life panned out. He was always going to do great things.” She sighed. “World changing things.”

Indeed he would.

They were nearing the coast now, the first dark sweeps of rocky cliffs coming into view. Azriel gripped her tighter and pushed his wings harder, eager to get them onto land. Before long, he was coasting to touch down on a barren stretch of rock.

Setting Cerys down, she stretched out her legs, looking around. “Where are we?”

“Tip of the northern coast. The Illyrian mountains are behind us,” he gestured south. She nodded slowly, suddenly shutting her eyes. As he watched, her wings materialised behind her, stretched wide. A smile lit up her face as she gave an experimental flap.

“I knew it!” Her wings gave a powerful stretch, lifting her off her feet. Before he could move, she had risen a few yards off the ground and was laughing with glee.

A gust of wind shot through them, pulling Cerys roughly up. Her wings suddenly gave out, sagging behind her as she fell back down towards him. Azriel moved quickly, hands reaching up and guiding her back to earth. She touched down, scowling fiercely.

“I suppose it was probably too much to ask to fly like I used to right away,” she crossed her arms, looking peeved. He smirked, “Probably. Now, we need to get going. There’s someone who wants to meet you.”

She looked up at him, brow contracting. Opening her mouth to pepper him with questions, he reached out and clasped her hand, pulling them both into darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Next chapter Rhys and Cerys are finally reunited! Please let me know any thoughts you have in the comment section, I'd love to hear them!


	5. Five

The world spun, shifting from light to dark and back again. Cerys caught glimpses of a dim forest, a snow covered hillside, a small wooden cabin next to a startlingly blue lake as Azriel winnowed them across the Night Court.

She wasn’t sure if it could be called winnowing, precisely. It didn’t feel like when she had travelled this way growing up, moving seamlessly from one place to the others like folds on a page. This felt more like stepping through a dark, cloying veil. The inky blackness enveloped her completely as they moved, pouring into her nose and mouth.

Cerys redoubled her grip on Azriel’s fingers, drawing her spare hand to wrap around his wrist securely. Tracing her thumb up the back of his palm, she was intrigued by the rough texture of his skin. Ridged and creased in parts, liquid smooth in others. Confused, she looked down during one of their brief stops. His hand was covered in scars so thick it no longer looked like skin. Burns, if she had to guess.

She fought a gasp, tearing her eyes away before he could notice her gawking. Cerys’ heart flew to her throat, pity washing through her. What had he gone through to mark him in this way? She swallowed, tightening her grip on his hand. The last think she wanted him to think was that she was disgusted by his touch.

Finally, they landed in Velaris. Azriel gave her hand a squeeze before turning to face her, blocking her view of the city. He took a deep breath and seemed to steel himself, face unreadable.

“It’s not my place to say, but I feel I must tell you something, Cerys,” he said in a low voice, stepping closer. Behind him, she could see the banks of the Sidra and the lights of the city beyond. Her beautiful Velaris. Cerys nodded quickly, trying to slide past him to take in the city fully.

Azriel stopped her before she could get far, hands on her shoulders. “Cerys, please. One moment.” His tone caused her to draw back, looking up at his face. He was stoic as always, but his eyes held a strange tenderness, at odds with his stern words.

He sighed, continuing. “I’m aware of who your family was, we all are.” Her heart sped up, how had he worked it out? She had been so careful not to let any fundamental details spill. She tensed immediately under his palms, with that knowledge, what would her life look like here?

“How… why do you think that?” Maybe it was simply a guess, something she could talk her way out of. He shot her a look in response. “That involves things I can’t reveal right now. I just wanted to make you aware as today might turn out differently than you thought.”

Was he being deliberately cryptic? It was infuriating. She wrenched her shoulders out from under his hands and stepped back. “Why don’t you just say what you mean, for once?” She demanded, spots of colour materialising high on her cheekbones.

“Don’t you think I’ve been through enough today?” She tossed her hands up, gesturing around them at Velaris. “This morning I woke up discovering that, somehow, I could summon my wings again. Now, thanks to _you,_ I’ve been taken and brought back here. Somewhere I never planned on being again!” Her voice had grown steadily louder and she had moved forward into his space, finger pressed accusingly against his chest. Azriel’s face remained unnervingly inscrutable.

He rose to the challenge, “If it wasn’t for _me_ you’d be bleeding out on that godsforsaken island with an arrow through your wings.” His words came out in a huff, the slightest bit of anger showing on his face. Enough to egg her on. He thought _he_ was angry, did he?

“No, Azriel, you don’t understand. Everyone I love has been taken from me and yet again I have been ripped from my home.” She paused, drawing a breath. “I don’t care if my home was a decrepit cabin on a freezing island with people who didn’t view me as family, it has been all I’ve had for _years._ Yet, somehow you think it’s your job to take me from that. Who am I to you?”

At the back of her mind, she recognised she was being a bit unfair. She was grateful, truly, that he saved her from Maja’s bow. At the core of it, she hated being taken from where she was comfortable, despite the circumstances. It brought back unwelcome memories of the first time she was wrenched from her home and family. The feeling, admittedly, brought out the worst of her.

Throughout her tirade he stood calmly, arms folded. Fighting the anger rising in her that he could be so collected, she closed her eyes, head tilting back. She needed to work on being more civil, cauldron knew who she was going to meet today and she needed to be on her best behaviour.

Collecting herself, Cerys turned back to Azriel. “I apologise, that was uncalled for.” He dipped his chin, continuing to look at her blankly. “I’m more angry at the change, I think. I am grateful for you saving my life, though…” She trailed off, looking down at the ground.

His breath fanned across her face as he sighed. “Good to know. Before we head up, however, I do have a few things I think I should tell you.” She looked up, curious.

Suddenly agitated, her ran his hand up through his hair, strands moving to brush against his forehead. “Like I said before, it’s not my place to tell you everything, and you’ll know soon enough. I just want you to do what you have to do to prepare to have your view of the world, of your past, flipped around today.” He finished his speech and set his jaw, waiting for her response.

Her mind spun, what did he mean, her past? “Right… okay. I can’t say I know what you mean, but I’ll do my best to… prepare.” He nodded firmly, seemingly satisfied with her response.

“Good. Ready to fly?” She nodded, feeling panic set in at the thought of meeting everyone. Whoever everyone was. Azriel gathered her up in his arms and paused, reading her distress on her face.

“Are you ok?” Her breath came in quick pants. “Hey… it’s going to be ok.” Gentle fingers moved under her chin to tilt her face to his. “I promise, no harm will come to you.”

She nodded, holding her breath in attempt to get it under control. “Ok, thank you. I’m ready.” His eyes roved over his face, shadows rolling up his body. She watched, suddenly fascinated, as one slid up his neck and into his ear. Momentarily distracted from her panic, her brow contracted.

“Do your shadows speak to you?” She asked as his wings gave a mighty boom, lifting them high above the city. He glanced down, “Yes. They act like an extension of my body, in a way. Sometimes they keep close, telling me things they observe. Other times, like right now, I send them somewhere to keep an eye on what’s happening.” Her interest must have shown on her face because he continued, “They’re at the House of Wind right now, letting me know everyone is there waiting for you.”

She swallowed, trying to take Azriel’s advice to calm herself in preparation. He was gazing down at her, reading her face. She stilled as his shadows began to slide off his body to move around hers, winding across her legs and up her torso. They felt like the softest blanket, warm and comforting. Sighing, she met his eyes. “Thank you.”

He nodded, turning his attention back to the sky. Ahead, far up the mountain, the lights of the House of the Wind grew nearer.

_____________________________________________________________

Azriel couldn’t deny he was worried about Cerys. She felt small in his arms, fragile. His instincts rose to the surface, an intrinsic need to protect and shelter her. He settled for wrapping his shadows tighter around her, manipulating their temperature so they sat warm and comfortable against her skin.

As they flew closer to the mountain, he looked down and studied her face. While her bone structure and eyes looked undeniably similar to Rhys, she had a more delicate, pointed chin and her nose tipped up at the end. Her hair had that same blue tint to it that Rhys’ did, but hers was riotously curly, sweeping down to curl around her waist.

As they flew, a curl wrapped its way through Azriel’s fingers resting against Cerys’ ribs. He grabbed it gently, sliding it through his fingers. It felt like one of his shadows, soft and silky and lighter than air.

She sighed, pressing her head under Azriel’s chin. His heart gave an unwelcome lurch. What had gotten into him? Roughly dismissing the pulse of attraction rising in him, he cleared his throat.

“We’re about to land. Are you ready to go in, or would you like me to fly a few laps?” She let out a soft chuckle. “No, I’m ready. I think if we wait any longer I’ll lose my nerve.”

He nodded, flinging his wings wide to coast them to the balcony jutting out from the house. They landed smoothly, Cerys pausing to draw an unsteady breath before sliding out of his arms.

It was now or never. He offered his arm out for Cerys to take, which she did, digging her fingers into his leathers.

Azriel walked them towards the main sitting room, following their voices. A shadow moved into his ear. “ _Just Rhys and Feyre. Feyre is waiting to greet you first.”_ That was good, better to ease Cerys in with just the two of them before dropping her in the deep end.

They moved around the corner and spotted Feyre, standing with her hands linked in front of her. She had a bright, welcoming smile on her face, clearly wanting Cerys to feel at ease. After Mor had winnowed Cassian and the others to the Hewn City, she had come back here to inform Feyre about Cerys so she was prepared.

Feyre’s eyes widened as they came fully into view, sliding over Cerys face rapidly. Azriel slid a shadow tendril to touch the back of Cerys’ neck soothingly, hoping to offer comfort the best he could. He could feel her hand shaking against his arm.

Feyre moved forward. “Cerys, hello. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Feyre.” She held out her hands and Cerys slowly moved to grasp both of Feyre’s with her own, a shaky smile on her face. “Hello Feyre, it’s very nice to meet you.” Feyre nodded, still smiling. Azriel wished she’d stop, it was starting to look a bit manic pasted on her face.

They moved forward, walking down a short flight of stairs into the comfortable room facing the city. Rhys was standing by the window, staring out at Velaris. He was dressed, as usual, in fine black clothes with no wings in sight.

Azriel paused once they entered the room, waiting for Feyre to move over to her mate, gently touching his arm to draw his attention. Beside him, Cerys stiffened, eyes flicking up to look at him questioningly. He smiled down at her, reassuring. He had no clue how this was going to go.

Rhys turned from the window, hands in his pocket. He took a few steps forward, stopping suddenly, mouth dropping open. He let out a sort of choked sound, eyes locked on Cerys.

“I… Cerys?”

_____________________________________________________________

Time had stopped. There was no other explanation for it. It couldn’t be Rhysand standing in front of her. Her beloved brother was dead, beheaded years ago. There was no way he would be standing in front of her now, looking every bit the High Lord she knew he always would be.

She took a hesitant step forward, eyes locked on his. Her mouth opened but her vocal cords refused to comply. Another step.

Before she knew it, she was running. Barrelling towards him, tears flowing freely down her face. She didn’t care if he was truly her brother, or if this was an awful trick. She was getting him in her arms _now._

He met her half way, enveloping her in his arms with a choked sob. “Cerys… _Cerys._ How can it be?” He pulled back to stare into her eyes. “Is it really you?” She nodded, reaching up to push away the tears streaming down his face.

“Yes, it is me. Is it really _you,_ Rhys?” A smile overtook his face, tucking his arms tighter around her. “Gods, but how? I thought you were dead. I saw your head, Cerys, in a box. And your wings. _Cauldron,_ your wings!” She shook her head. “No, I’m not dead. I thought you were dead!”

He pulled back, face confused. She felt the same, her mind was running away from her. She had no idea how he was alive, had been alive all these years.

He gestured for them to sit, keeping his arm tight around her as they moved to the sofa. “Tell me everything. What happened to you? It’s been so long, Cerys. So long. So much has happened.” He suddenly sat up straight, eyes moving around the room.

“Is mother here too? Did she survive?” Cerys sighed at the hope in his voice, heart breaking for him. “I… I don’t think so. I mean, it’s possible she was kidnapped as well but I haven’t seen her since that day in Illyria.”

He slowly nodded, tears continuing to drip down his face. Turning back to her, his eyes once again lit up with joy. “I never thought I’d see you again. This… having you here,” his voice trailed off as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “This is the greatest gift.”

She felt the same. They had so much to discuss, she wanted to know everything. How he had survived, how he was made to believe she had been killed. What had happened in the centuries she was gone. But for now, she was content to sit, nestled into her beloved brother’s side once again. She was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just loved writing their reunion! Hope you enjoyed reading it as well :) Please leave any thoughts in the comments, I'd love to hear them!


	6. Six

Long shadows moved across the room as the newly reunited siblings sat close, sharing stories, matching dark heads bent together. Azriel stood off to the side with Feyre, watching.

He couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at his mouth as he observed them. Occasionally, one of them would throw their head back with laughter, or push back tears off the other’s face. It was beautiful to watch. Azriel felt an echo of the familiar loneliness push against him. He could never begrudge Rhys for this, he knew how deeply Rhys had missed his family over the years. Yet, he couldn’t help the encroaching ache of having no one to truly call his own.

Azriel became aware of the pressure of someone’s gaze resting on him. He glanced down, finding Feyre’s eyes on him. She was studying his face carefully, expression serious.

“Thank you, for finding her. Bringing her back to Rhys, to all of us.” She smiled in their direction. “This moment, seeing Cerys again… well, it wasn’t something he would even let himself dream about.” Her eyes were soft as she gazed at her mate, filled with a love so intense and deeply personal that Azriel felt he was intruding even seeing it on her face.

She looked back up at him, eyes damp. “I think she’ll settle in well here, don’t you?”

He nodded slowly, looking back at Cerys. He did think she would settle in nicely and he was interested to see how she might fit into the group dynamics. Elain would no doubt go out of her way to help her feel comfortable, perhaps roping her into various tasks around the house. Cassian would take up teasing her as skilfully as he did the rest of them. Nesta he was sure would bring out Cerys’ feisty, argumentative side he’d glimpsed earlier. Amren, probably no different than how she treated everyone else in the group. And Mor… Cerys was probably looking forward to reuniting with her cousin once again.

Azriel stifled a sigh. He hoped no one would let on about his and Mor’s tangled history. The last thing he wanted was for Cerys to see him as a rejected, beaten down male, not worthy of Mor’s golden light. Even if that’s what he was.

He shook his head, forcing his thoughts away from Mor. He realised his shadows had grown to nearly fully encompass his body as he ruminated. They wrapped up his arms and torso, swirling and engulfing his shoulders and neck. With a shake, he sent them away, sliding back and folding into themselves.

After what felt like hours, Cerys and Rhys stood up and made their way over. Both of their faces were bright and shining, stealing glances at one an other like they still couldn’t believe the other was there.

Cerys moved over to him, gently touching his arm. Any worry he had that she might harbour resentment towards him for not telling her about Rhys vanished with her smiling face.

“I can see now why you didn’t tell me.” She shook her head ruefully. “I still can’t believe it.”

He let himself smile softly at her. “I’m glad.” He didn’t know what else to say, suddenly feeling awkward for entreating on their joyful little bubble. All his loneliness and insecurities that had been manifesting for years came back in a fell swoop. Going and fetching Cerys from that island might have been thrilling and deeply rewarding, but that was it. All it was was a pleasant diversion.

She moved nearer, looking up at him and starting to speak. Before she could get any closer, his shadows had risen up over his body, breaking him off from her touch. “I trust Rhys and Feyre will help you get settled in. It’s time for me to go.” She looked confused, eyes narrowed as she tried to make out his face through the darkness.

“You’re going? But… I mean, Rhys said something about getting dinner in Velaris. You’re welcome to join.” He shook his head, moving back from her. He could caught a glimpse of the disappointment on her face before his shadows took him completely, folding him into the darkness.

Seconds later, Azriel re-appeared in his house. No one else knew where his home was in Velaris and he preferred it that way. It was small and sat at the edge of the city, suiting him perfectly. One half was entirely taken up with windows overlooking the mountains. It had a comfortable sitting room, holding no decorations or sentimental items save piles of books. There were two bedrooms on the second floor, the first he used as an office, fit with a large wooden desk and more bookshelves. The second held his bed and personal effects, meagre as they were. Everything was minimal and bright with white walls and rich wood.

He threw himself down on the sofa with a huff, burying his head in his hands. Azriel knew he had been rude to Cerys, had seen the disappointment on her lovely face. Watching her reunion with Rhys, seeing their happiness at being a family again, he deeply felt how intrusive and dampening his presence would be if he stayed for dinner.

If loving Mor for all those years and being resolutely and continuously rejected by her at every turn had taught him one thing, it was that those who shined brightest didn’t need someone like him interjecting into their life.

_____________________________________________________________

Cerys stood motionless, watching the shadows fold themselves over Azriel’s body, whisking him away to gods knew where. She pressed her lips together, feeling the sting of his rejection to come to dinner.

She knew she was nothing to him, his duty to collect her and deliver her to Rhys was fulfilled. He had no reason to stick around. Yet, she couldn’t help feel snubbed that he had been so quick to leave. Cerys put it down to still feeling emotionally vulnerable with him earlier. In the sky, as they flew. On the banks of the Sidra. She straightened her spine, turning back towards Rhys and Feyre. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Cerys watched her brother and Feyre together, thinking back to Rhys telling her a bit of their story, and what a story it was. She was truly happy for him to have found someone so perfect for him. He deserved all the love in the world.

They turned towards her, matching smiles on their faces. “Az leave?” Rhys said, glancing around. She cleared her throat, “Yes, he said he had to go.” Pasting a false smile on her face, she quickly changed the subject. “So, where did you say we’re going to dinner?”

He motioned for her to follow, talking as they walked. “Ah, yes. It’s one of our favourite places, isn’t it Feyre?” She shot him a quick smile, “It was the first place Rhys took me when I settled in enough here to give in to him, just a tiny bit.” She nudged his shoulder, shooting him a teasing glance. He chuckled in response, “I believe your exact words was that the food made you feel _alive.”_

She laughed, turning back to Cerys. “That’s true, I did say that. It’s this one dish in particular, Cerys you must try it, the things they do with spices…” She continued to talk animatedly to Cerys as they made their way to the balcony she had arrived on, describing various dishes and making Cerys’ stomach rumble.

Standing on the edge, Rhys summoned his wings and held his arms out to Cerys. “I can fly you down if you like, I’m sure it’s been awhile since you’ve used your wings.” She nodded, glancing at Feyre. “Will Feyre be ok?” Rhys chuckled, winking at her. “Oh, she’ll manage just fine.”

Without another word, they were airborne. Rhys flew in the same manner she did, carefree and with wide sweeps of his wings, letting the wind carry them. With a shout of surprise, she noticed Feyre gliding beside them on wings of her own.

She glanced up at Rhysand. “Shapeshifting. One of her many powers,” he answered simply. Today would be full of surprises, apparently.

Minutes later they landed in front of a beautiful home on the banks of the Sidra. Rhys smiled down at her, walking towards the door. “Welcome to our home. Yours too, if you’d like.” Her heart lifted, smile overtaking her face.

Feyre showed her around the house, pointing out different rooms and paintings she had done, eventually leading her to a jewel of a room overlooking the river. It had tall double, windows, a plush bed made up with soft looking lilac linen, and through the door, Cerys spotted a deep bathtub. Heaven.

“This can be your room, if you’d like. Anything you want to change, just let Nuala or Cerridwen know. Mor sent over some clothes that we thought would fit you, but anything you’d like in Velaris is yours, of course.” Feyre smiled, moving towards the door. “We’ll leave in 30 minutes, if that’s ok with you? I’m sure you’d like to bathe.”

Cerys nodded gratefully, eyes following Feyre as she shut the door with a soft snick. A bath sounded like an excellent idea. Cerys moved about the room, taking her time in the luxurious tub washing her curls and allowing herself to float indulgently.

Once she was bathed, she opened the wardrobe, letting out a gasp. It seemed her cousin not only got her sizing right, but remembered the types and colours of clothing Cerys favoured all those years ago. Rifling through, she selected a fitted pair of black trousers and a charcoal grey jumper of the softest wool. She dug out a matching black wool coat and short leather boots. She left her drying curls loose and swirling around her.

With a minute to spare, Cerys made her way back to the door, spotting Feyre and Rhys waiting for her. Rhys held out his arm for her to take. “Mor’s joining us, I hope you don’t mind.”

Her eyes lit up. “Of course not! I can’t wait to see my cousin. How has she been, all these years?” Rhys sighed, “That is more her story than mine, but recently she’s been doing very well. She’s my third in command, actually.” Cerys raised her eyebrows at that. “Really? Wow, that’s great! I always knew she would be good at bossing people around,” she said with a laugh. Rhys joined her, “She is definitely very good at that, me especially.”

They continued their walk to the restaurant, chatting lightly, reminiscing over past adventures her, Rhys and Mor had gotten up to growing up.

Cerys spotted Mor first, leaning up against a light post outside the restaurant. “Mor!” She shouted, letting go of Rhys’ arm and heading towards her cousin. Mor’s head snapped up, face breaking into a wide smile, quickly enveloping her cousin in a warm embrace.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Mor’s voice was muffled against Cerys’ hair. “I’m sure Rhys has said it all but really, Cerys, this is the best thing any of us could’ve imagined.”

Cerys giggled, moving back and studying her cousin’s face. She was just as beautiful, just as bright, but her eyes were pinched at the corners with a practiced strain. Cerys’ wondered what exactly her cousin had been through over the centuries to allow her face to settle into familiar lines of pain.

“I feel the same. I never thought we’d get a moment like this again.” Mor nodded enthusiastically, grabbing her arm and steering her into the restaurant.

Once they were seated and ordered, the conversation quickly moved to Cerys’ miraculous rescue. Mor peppered her with questions about Maja, Jakub and Danuta. “I helped Cassian move them to the Hewn City,” she explained. “That female is a real piece of work.” Cerys nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“And Danuta? Where is she staying?” Her heart clenched for her friend. Surely Azriel had made sure she was taken care of and not treated harshly. Mor patted her hand reassuringly. “Yes, Cassian made sure she wasn’t taken down with the rest of them. She’s currently staying at the moonstone palace with Nuala and Cerridwen. In fact, the last I saw her she was making herself at home in the big baths overlooking the mountains.” Mor’s cheeks heated at that, her eyes shifting quickly away. Curious.

“Good,” her eyes moved to Rhys. “Will she be able to come stay with us here in Velaris soon?” He paused his chewing, considering. “Yes… we will need to question her first, but provided nothing suspicious turns up, I don’t see why not.” Her heart lifted, she would love Danuta sitting here with them more than anything, meeting her true family.

“What did you think of Azriel?” Feyre’s voice was light and casual, but Cerys detected the note of curiosity under it. “I liked him. He’s… intriguing.” Cerys wasn’t sure if that was the right word to describe him, but under pressure it was the best she could come up with.

“He was very kind to me, saving my life and bringing me here,” she elaborated. “I was very anxious when he said he was taking me back to the Night Court and he really helped with making me feel better about it.” She realised she was rambling, but couldn’t seem to stop the words from flowing out of her mouth. “That’s a great trick, too, using his shadows as a blanket.”

Feyre and Rhys looked at her blankly, confused. “When we were flying he sort of, I don’t know, wrapped them around me? To comfort me, I think.” Mor stiffened beside her, fingers going white knuckled on her fork.

“He did _what?_ ” She ground out. Cerys was beginning to feel panicked, she shouldn’t have said anything. “No, I mean, it wasn’t a big deal or anything… I just was cold and worried.” She let out a nervous laugh, nobody was saying anything to stop her rambling. “I’m sure it was just the first thing he thought of to keep me from launching into a full scale panic attack.”

Mor remained straight backed beside her, Cerys could see her knee bouncing up and down rapidly. Breaking the tension, Rhys laughed, shooting a glance at Feyre, who forced out a chuckle as well.

“That sounds like Az all right, always looking out for others.” His tone was light, and he quickly moved the conversation along to the dish they were currently eating. Mor visibly relaxed next to her.

Cerys was left reeling. It didn’t seem like a big deal when Azriel had shared his shadows with her. It was nice, even. She didn’t understand why Mor seemed so upset about it. She glanced at her cousin out of the corner of her eye. Maybe they were involved and she didn’t like him close to another female, even out of necessity. Cerys frowned, unable to stop the kernel of jealousy from forming.

It seemed she had a lot to learn about her family dynamics after all.

_____________________________________________________________

Artbreeder links

Cerys -<https://i.pinimg.com/originals/05/30/b4/0530b401afa910909e0b3de559d76d74.jpg>

Danuta - <https://i.pinimg.com/originals/08/c2/44/08c244f3b26d7be775f2230c7ca10138.jpg>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!! Apologies for not much Az POV this chapter, but I promise next will have more!
> 
> I also made Cerys and Danuta on Artbreeder if anyone's curious with how I envision them looking, links above!


	7. Seven

Days passed and Azriel barely left his house for longer than a brisk fly amongst the mountains. He recognised that he was wallowing. Recognised it but couldn’t seem to summon the energy or care to stop it.

He had always thought at some point, him and Mor would be together. Even despite years of opportunities continuing to present themselves and her letting them pass by, he held out hope. His consuming love for her stopped him feeling like the odd one out once Feyre and her sisters arrived on the scene. Even once Cassian and Nesta had stopped messing around and gotten together, he held fast to his love for Mor to keep the loneliness at bay.

Now, with Cerys here and everyone a big, happy family once again, he felt the loss of his safeguard keenly. Centuries of denial and internalised hatred came bubbling to the surface during those days Azriel kept himself locked away.

The sun was going down over the mountains, painting the sky in rich shades of violet and pink. Azriel sat in his favourite chair by the window, nursing his glass of whiskey. He thought he had mostly worked through his anger and bitterness over the past few days, enough to move forward at least.

Without the guard of his feelings for Mor keeping him from opening his heart up, he felt vulnerable. If there was one thing Azriel didn’t like, it was feeling exposed. The darkness was where he belonged, not out in the open. He hated feeling like he’d lost the barrier his infatuation with Mor had provided.

His biggest epiphany had been realising that his love for Mor was based less on their connection, less on seeing a true future with her, and more on the comfortability unrequited love provided him. He could rest behind the appearance that he was a taken, devoted male without any of the vulnerability that came with an intimate relationship. He could take lovers, which he frequently did, without worrying about forming an emotional connection. For years, it had suited him perfectly.

But Mor had to go and pull that out from under him. He knew he was still angry and hurt at her for allowing him to spend so many years pining with barely a word to dissuade him otherwise. But it was time to move on. He didn’t have a choice.

Azriel pulled himself from the chair with a grunt, stretching his arms over his head. Moving to look out the window, he let his shadows roam over Velaris to see what the others were doing. He was going to do his best to make an effort. Gods knew he didn’t want to be taken off missions, he had to make it look like he was fine.

A shadow slid up to his ear a few minutes later. _“Feyre, Rhysand and Cerys are at the riverhouse. Cassian and Nesta are… occupied.”_ He let out a breath. Of course they were. Riverhouse it was, then.

He left his house before he could change his mind, choosing to fly over simply appearing in the sitting room.

Velaris looked best at night. Flying over the city, he followed the line of the Sidra winding through the illuminated streets. He watched as their people moved around, going about their business, carefree once again. It soothed his soul to fly over the city he called his home and see it whole and thriving.

Landing in front of the house, Azriel paused. He knew he had been rude to Cerys last he saw her, especially since she was no doubt feeling vulnerable after her life had flipped on its head. Endeavouring to be warmer to her tonight, he made his way into the house.

Moving through, he found them sitting around the fire, chatting. Feyre looked up first, catching his eye. “Az! This is a surpise!” She stood, smiling warmly. “Why don’t you take a seat. I was just about to head to the studio, I have a class in a few minutes.” She squeezed his shoulder, stepping around him and moving towards the door, waving back at Rhys and Cerys.

He nodded, settling into the seat and keeping his shadows from rushing over him and obscuring his body. Cerys sat in the seat to his left, Rhys next to her. Leaning over and looking past Cerys, he smiled welcomingly. “We were just having a discussion you might be able to weigh in on,” he winked at Cerys, who huffed and crossed her arms.

She rotated in her seat, facing Azriel fully now. He allowed himself an indulgent look over her. She looked healthier and brighter than last time he’d seen her, some golden colour already returning to her face. She was wrapped in an oversized cream jumper Azriel thought might’ve been Rhysand’s. He nodded at her to elaborate.

“Right, well, Rhys here thinks that over Solstice we should go to the mountain cabin for the week.” Rhys nodded emphatically, “It’s tradition.” Cerys shot him a teasing glare. “Be that as it may, I was thinking you lot might want to mix it up this year,” her arm shot out, landing a swift dig in her brother’s side. “Wouldn’t want to become too predictable, now would we.”

Azriel sat back, letting out a quiet chuckle. “We do go to the cabin every year, that’s true. Although I think Rhys might have less innocent reasons behind wanting to return, he has _quite_ fond memories there if I’m not mistaken.”

Rhys laughed openly at the expression of disgust on Cerys’ face. “ _Really,_ Rhys? That’s our family home!” He continued to laugh, shrugging his shoulders innocently. Her nose wrinkling, she scoffed, “please tell me you left my favourite bathtub alone, _please.”_ He tossed his head back, chuckling. “Maybe you should be questioning Feyre about that particular tub.”

She crossed her arms, sticking her tongue out at Rhys. The gesture made Azriel laugh, they seemed to have settled back into the easy banter of siblings, despite the years.

Drawing the conversation back, he nudged Cerys with his knee. “Where would you like to go?” She shot Rhys a final glare before turning her attention to Azriel, curling her legs up under her in the seat.

“Well, we have another house on an island off the East coast. It’s not far from the sea border with the Day Court so the weather is a bit milder. It was my favourite home outside of Velaris, growing up.” Her eyes turned large and pleading as she shifted her gaze to Rhys. Employing the tried and true pity tactic, Azriel thought with a chuckle.

Rhys clearly thought the same, lifting an eyebrow at her. He fought a smile, expression turning soft and indulgent. Azriel knew he wouldn’t deny her, especially when it had been so long. Cerys could clearly tell she won the argument too, as Rhys let out a sigh of defeat.

Quick as a flash, Cerys looked over her shoulder and shot a wink Azriel’s way. Artful manipulation skills evidently ran in their family.

Rhys chuckled, “Alright Cerys, you win. We’ll visit the island home for Solstice. I’ll send Cerridwen and Nuala over early to prepare it, we can leave next week.” He moved to stand, rolling his eyes with feigned exasperation at Azriel. Despite his protests, Az could tell how he loved making his sister happy.

Rhys walked off towards the kitchen, leaving Cerys and Azriel alone. She turned in her seat, eyes locked on his. He continued to watch her warily. She sat still as a statue, gaze wide and focused. It started to become strange, what was she playing at?

Azriel could feel his brow contract as he continued to study her face. After an uncomfortable amount of time passed, she let out a sudden laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she giggled. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to see how long you’d sit in silence for while I stared at you.” He huffed, an unwilling laugh slipping from him. “You’re an odd one, Cerys, you know that?”

She nodded, the occasional giggle continuing to slip from her lips. “You’re a strange one too, Azriel.” He felt a tremor pass him as she quietly said his name. He could see more pieces of Rhys’ attitude and playfulness come out every day, with her own spin on it. Her company was pleasant and easy, much like her brother.

He shot her a stern look which only made her laugh harder. Honestly, something was the matter with her sense of humour. Her face was bright and happy as she reached out and poured him a glass of wine, handing it over. “Anyways, have you ever been to the island home?”

He leaned back in his seat, crossing an ankle over his knee. “No, I can’t say I have. I knew there was one out there, but Rhys had never shown an inclination to visit.” She nodded, biting her lip and looking out to the open doorway to the kitchen. Leaning forward, she lowered her voice.

“I might be wrong, but after… what happened, with mother and I, Rhys might not have wanted to go back. It was our favourite spot and we used to spend every Solstice there.” She frowned, eyes falling to her lap. “That’s mostly why I suggested going, I think it would be good for him to go back. Help heal the wounds, you know.” Her eyes darted back to his, gauging his reaction.

“Yes, I can see that.” He sighed, not wanting to pry. “Make new memories there, now that you’re back and he has his mate.” His heart dropped slightly at the words, fighting back those old feelings of being a spare part.

She looked at him critically, mouth turned down at the corners. Azriel felt exposed under her gaze, shifting in his seat. She leaned forward, resting her hand on his. He fought to keep still under the weight of it. “You too, of course. He’s told me a lot about you all over the past few days. I wouldn’t want to see how much of a mess he’d be without you and Cassian there over the centuries.”

He nodded, hesitantly agreeing. Her words had been kind and addressed exactly what he was feeling, almost too precisely for his comfort. He needed to take a step back.

A door slammed and footsteps sounded close by. Both their heads snapped up towards the door as Mor appeared on the threshold, her gaze locked on to where Cerys’ hand still rested over Azriel’s.

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Cerys knew she wasn’t doing anything wrong, yet she couldn’t help but snatch her hand away from Azriel’s at the look on Mor’s face. For a second, she had looked furious before quickly schooling her features into a smile, moving closer.

Cerys glanced at Azriel, his face had gone so cold it was virtually impossible to tell what he was thinking. She was usually good at reading emotion, but his face was a frozen mask as Mor approached.

She swept over, sitting down in Rhys’ vacated seat next to Cerys, swinging her golden hair over one shoulder. She shot them both a bright smile, but her eyes remained closed and guarded.

“Fancy seeing you here, Az. I haven’t seen you all week.” She raised an eyebrow at him, playing with the ends of her hair. Cerys shifted her gaze between them, wondering yet again if there was something going on she wasn’t aware of.

He cleared his throat, shadows beginning to race up his arms. “Yes. I’ve been busy.” She crossed her legs, he laced his fingers together. It was like a tense choreographed dance. Cerys felt supremely stuck in the middle of something that obviously didn’t concern her.

She shifted, moving to get up. Before she had a chance, Mor leaned over and rested her hand on Cerys’ forearm. “Apologies I haven’t been around the past few days, we’ve been finishing up with Jakub and Danuta at the Hewn City.”

Cerys turned her full attention over to Mor, “Not Maja?” Mor glanced at Azriel. “No… Az wanted to speak to her first, she’s been in solitary confinement since she was brought it to see if that will loosen her tongue.” She continued, “though, you’ll be pleased to know nothing suspicious turned up with Danuta. She should be coming to Velaris in the next few days.” Mor smiled at her, knowing how much that would lift her spirits.

“Oh, good! I can’t wait to see her.” She sighed happily, hoping her friend was comfortable enough at the moonstone palace and would settle in quickly into Night Court life. “Has Jakub admitted to anything?”

Mor leaned back, a frown marring her beautiful face. “Nothing we didn’t already expect. It seemed Maja was the mastermind, he claims she said she was going off on an unnamed mission for a decent amount of coin, and turned back up with you in tow. He’s saying she refused to give him any more details, but we’re not convinced of that just yet.” Cerys considered her words. She never thought Jakub was the brains behind anything beyond menial household chores, to be honest, so she wasn’t particularly surprised.

“That’s good to know, keep me updated, will you?” She asked her cousin, rising off her seat. Mor smiled, “of course. Whatever you’d like to know just ask.” Cerys nodded, stepping around Azriel on her way to find Rhys. She looked down at him as she passed and his eyes were suddenly wide, pleading with her. She furrowed her brow, confused. Just as soon as the look appeared on his face, it was gone. She shook her head slightly, moving into the kitchen.

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Azriel stifled a sigh, resenting Cerys for leaving him alone with Mor. He may be coming out of the other end of his feelings, but he didn’t exactly want to spend one-on-one time with her. It was too painful. She moved out of her seat, dropping into Cerys’ and leaning forward, eyes wide.

“Az…” she breathed, “I’ve missed you. I know I’ve hurt you but please, it doesn’t need to be awkward between us.” Easy for her to say. He remained motionless, shadows buzzing around him. She swallowed, realising he didn’t plan on responding.

“I’m sorry, I’ll go.” Her eyes flitted to the kitchen, gaze sobering. “My cousin… Cerys, she’s fragile. There’s so much change happening in her life right now.” Mor’s face suddenly turned deadly serious. “She doesn’t need more change right now, promises made that will never be able to be kept.” Azriel sucked in a breath, stunned. What was Mor trying to say?

Mor’s jaw ticked as she considered him. “I don’t know if there’s something going on between you,” Azriel shook his head, mouth parting. She held up a hand. “Stop, I know you don’t lend your shadows for just anyone.” How had she known about that? It was a moment of weakness, he could hardly let Rhys’ sister spiral out in his arms, could he?

Mor continued, “I’m just saying, Cerys doesn’t need that right now. She doesn’t need you, she needs her family.” With her final barb finding its mark, she turned and headed passed him towards the kitchen. Azriel’s head reeled.

He knew he wasn’t worthy of Mor, let alone Rhys’ beloved sister. Hearing Mor voice his insecurities proved it to him absolutely. Without moving from his seat, he let the shadows take him back home. He never should’ve left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me some angst! I'm not a *massive* fan of Mor, if it wasn't obvious. I really feel for her situation, and dearly hope she finds someone who makes her happy, but I just can't get behind her leading on poor baby Az for all those years!
> 
> As always, let me know any thoughts you have and thanks for reading!


	8. Eight

After yesterday's angst this chapter is basically all fluff, enjoy! :)

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Cerys woke early, before the sun was fully up. Her heart had felt heavy all night, twisted. She had barely slept more than a few hours, rising from her bed in fit. She wasn’t entirely sure why she had slept so poorly, why her body felt like it was weighed down.

Last night had been fun and relaxing, spending time with Azriel and Rhys before whipping up her favourite orange cake with Mor later on in the night. Despite the lightheartedness of the evening, she sensed a palpable tension between Mor and Azriel before he had left suddenly without saying goodbye.

She had tried to ask Mor if something was the matter, but her cousin had swiftly changed the subject, lips sealed. It spiked Cerys’ curiosity, even though she knew it was definitely none of her business.

She couldn’t help but worry about Azriel, his whole demeanour changed as soon as Mor walked in. Slipping into a coat and woolly hat as she moved towards the door, Cerys was determined to figure out why things were so tense between her cousin and the male she was starting to call a friend.

The winter air was crisp and icy cold, filling Cerys’ lungs and stopping her breath in its tracks. Despite the chill, she loved mornings like these. Waking up as the sun was turning the sky heart-stopping shades of pastel pink and purple, watching the city slowly come alive as she walked.

She made her way along the banks of the Sidra, careful of the icy layer over the cobblestones. The mountains stood out in sharp relief against the sky, shafts of light beginning to spread from the tallest peak. It was going to be a stunning sunrise.

Cerys still couldn’t believe the turn her life had taken, how wildly lucky she was to be here. It had been less than a week, yet it was the happiest she’d been in her five hundred years.

Rhys told her yesterday he’d like her to start training her magic and her wings when she felt up to it. She was keen to start as soon as possible, there was nothing she’d like more than to be soaring over the hills on a morning like this.

Her magic, she was less sure of. She didn’t have the luxury of building on muscle memory like she did flying. When she was kidnapped she was just beginning to learn about her magic, how to control and wield it. The only power she had much experience with was manipulating darkness. _Before,_ as Cerys had started referring to the time before she was taken, she was just learning how to send the tendrils of darkness from her body to do her bidding.

She remembered long hours with a tutor learning how to separate and control individual threads of night, shooting them from her hands and letting them move around her body at will. Her mind trailed back to watching how effortlessly Azriel used his shadows. How he could change their temperature, use them as surveillance from a great distance, or completely obscure his body. Travel with them, even. She was unsure if she’d ever get to his level, but she was eager to test herself.

Cerys had reached the edge of the mountains to where the Sidra rushed down in a great torrent to form the river. The sun was nearly up, turning the snow around her golden and blinding. Finding a bench set conveniently to view the waterfall, she sat, turning her face up to catch the sun.

Minutes passed as she basked, content to let her mind wander and body sag against the seat. She loved this about Velaris, how peaceful it could be.

A noise broke her out of her stupor, a sudden gust of wind blowing over her back and pushing her hair forward. She leapt up, spinning to find the source. To her great surprise, Azriel stood behind her, hair windblown and wild.

Azriel stilled, face confused. “What are you doing here?” He looked quickly over his shoulder at the rows of houses nestled at the foot of the mountains. “It’s very early.”

She let out a breath. “I couldn’t sleep and mornings are my favourite time for a walk. Besides, I could ask you the same.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I suppose my answer is similar to yours.” His face was unreadable as ever, but she detected a faint melancholy hanging around him. ****

Sitting back down on the bench, she gestured next to her for him to join. His face looked wary, but he slowly made his way over and sat, turning to look out at the water. “This is one of my favourite spots in Velaris,” he admitted, looking faintly nervous. She nodded, agreeing. “I think it’s going to be one of mine too.”

He shifted back, yawning and stretching his wings out behind him, over the back of the bench. His wingtip closest to her extended far past the edge of the bench as he let them push out to their full span. She fought the giggle threatening to escape. Very impressive, indeed.

Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he crossed his arms and let his shadows still around him. Content to sit in silence as ever. Unfortunately for him and his peaceful morning, she had questions.

Cerys rotated partially in her seat, tucking one leg under her and resting her elbow on the seat back. “Azriel…” she began. “Can I ask you something?” She wasn’t sure if there was any sense going about it delicately, and if the past centuries had taught her anything, it was to get her information straight from the source.

He turned his head to meet her gaze, eyes instantly guarded and wary. “Maybe… what is it?” His expression was foreboding. She couldn’t help but let out a brisk laugh, “there’s no need to act like I’m sending you to your death, I just have a question.” He narrowed his eyes, but his shoulders unwound a fraction.

She nibbled her lip, unsure how she should phrase it. “I noticed, last night mostly, and a few other times, if I’m being honest…” She was waffling, suddenly nervous to ask. “Well, I know it’s not my business, but I’m trying to settle in here, you know. Get to know the group dynamics.” He had turned into a statue, barely breathing.

“Okay, what I’m trying to say… Is there something going on with you and Mor? There just seems to be a lot of tension there.” She waved her hand in front of his body, deterred into silence by the frozen mask that had descended over Azriel’s face as she spoke.

He loosened a breath, turning away from her to stare once more at the water. “You’re very observant.” Despite his cold exterior, she could tell how tense he was with her line of questioning.

Cerys sat silently, giving him time to answer, if he even wanted to answer. She slowly reached her hand out and touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t need to answer.” He sighed, shoulder shifting under her hand.

“No, don’t apologise. I imagine it must be difficult to work through hundreds of years of all of our messy history.” He turned to face her, shoulder slipping out from under her.

“It’s a long and tangled story, and not fully mine to tell.” His eyes trailed over her face. “Perhaps I’ll tell you someday. But, yes, there is… tension there.” She cocked her head, trying to show him that he could trust her. “Put simply, we had a difference of opinion not too long ago.”

She nodded encouragingly, trying to work through his cryptic words. “What kind of opinion?” His face completely shut down, any trace of openness swiftly retreated. “That’s between Mor and I.” Cerys recognised she had overstepped, guilt sweeping over her.

Pressing her lips together, she shifted away from him on the bench. “Of course,” she breathed. “It’s none of my business.” She rose to her feet, feeling strong waves of shame and regret. Loosening a breath, she turned away to watch the water plummet down the mountain, not slowing for anything. It was time for her to go.

Turning, she felt a soft pressure on her wrist. A dark shadow coiled around her, holding her in place. She looked over at Azriel. His face was conflicted, mouth pressed firmly in a line. He released her wrist, standing up. “I apologies, that was harsh of me.” She shook her head, the fault was her own. He stepped closer. “I am not used to talking about our… differences. It’s still fairly new.” She nodded, grateful he wasn’t shutting her out.

He gestured to the path. “I can walk you back to the riverhouse, if you’d like.” She smiled up at him, gesturing to lead the way.

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For once, Azriel was silently not from desire, but for a lack of knowing what to say. His head was still reeling from Cerys confronting him about the palpable tension with Mor. Cauldron, she was perceptive. He knew it was clear to the others that he didn’t want to be around her, but they were used to his and Mor’s strange dynamic. It was fair enough that Cerys had questions after being stuck in the middle of their little display last night.

As they walked through the hazy dawn light, he resolved to explain it to her as best he could. He deeply didn’t want to, the last thing he wanted was for Cerys to echo Mor’s sentiments from the previous night. Yet, he felt she deserved to know the gist of their backstory.

Azriel sighed, gathering his thoughts. “It goes back many, many years. Mor and I.” Her face turned up towards him, eyes guarded but hopeful. Trying not to scare him off.

“My own story is nearly as long and twisted, and I won’t plague you with it now. But I found myself in a similar situation to Cassian. A bastard, looked after and welcomed by your wonderful mother. It was the first time I experienced care and love.” He let himself smile at that, brushing his shoulder against hers.

“I see a lot of her in you, actually.” She beamed, “really? That might be the highest compliment you could pay me.” He chuckled, nodding. “It’s true.” He steeled himself, continuing. Mor visited the camp we were training at one day, carefree and bright like no one I’d seen before.” Cerys nodded, that version of Mor was the one from her childhood.

“A part of me fell in love with her immediately. But she… well, it was more complicated than it seemed. As you know, I’m sure, she was meant to marry Eris.” Cerys bobbed her head affirmatively. “She knew the only way she could prevent that was by making herself no longer valuable in their eyes. She asked Cassian to take her maidenhead.”

Cerys stopped, eyebrows in her hairline. “ _Cassian?_ But, I never picked up on… him and Nesta. They’re mates, aren’t they?” Azriel nodded, “It was a one time thing, and besides, Nesta was still centuries from being born. Cassian was young and at that age, well, he wasn’t hardly going to say no.” Azriel’s cheeks coloured slightly.

She huffed a laugh, continuing their walk along the river. “I never really go over her, fully.” Azriel admitted, this was the part he _really_ didn’t want to talk about. “To me, she represented this future I could never have.” He frowned, measuring his next words. “I held on to that hope until very recently.” He felt Cerys’ eyes fixed on him as they walked, studying his face. He tried to clear his face of emotion, knowing how perceptive she was.

“I see. So is that what your difference of opinion is? Whether you should be together?” He stopped, chest feeling tight. “Essentially.” Sighing, he squinted up at the sun. “I’ve realised that my love for her was more about fear of intimacy than anything. She was safe, in a way. Her disinterest kept me at arms length.” He was shocked at the words leaving his mouth, he had never voiced this to anyone, not even Mor.

She stepped closer, voice soft. “I know what you mean. Over the years, I never let myself get close to anyone. Not after losing my family. That fear… it burns you. Disfigures something fundamental.” He looked down at her, studied the sun moving through her hair and turning her eyes luminescent.

“I think I agree with you.” He softly smiled, glad he had shared some small part of himself with Cerys this morning. “Here’s hoping healing isn’t too far off, for both of us.”

She softly laughed, turning to continue walking towards the house. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know you haven’t known me long…. But I hope you can grow to trust me.” Her eyes darted to his face, earnest. “It goes without saying, but everything we talked about stays between us, of course.” He nodded gratefully, matching her stride as they made their way along the banks of the Sidra and into the new day ahead.


	9. Nine

After her morning with Azriel the day passed rather uneventfully. Rhys and Feyre had Court business to attend to and were out of the house before she arrived back from her walk. Cerys decided to spend the day curled up in the riverhouse’s comfortable library, sipping on tea and poking through history books detailing the centuries she had missed.

It was a relaxing day, needed after the busyness and upheaval of the last week. The history books proved insightful and absorbing, despite her preoccupation with her conversation with Azriel this morning. She knew it wouldn’t do her any good to overanalyse his every word. Despite her resolve to push it to the back of her head, her heart stayed warm with his honesty towards her.

Before she knew it, the sun was setting and Rhys and Feyre were arriving home. She leapt from her seat, hurrying downstairs to greet them. To her surprise, three people stood in the entryway.

“Danuta!” Cerys flew down the remaining stairs and into her friend’s arm. Danuta let out a laugh and rested her cheek atop Cerys’ head affectionately, squeezing her tight. Pulling back, Cerys analysed her face.

“Are you well? I’m so glad you’re here!” She shot a glare over her shoulder at her brother. “I had no idea you were coming today. Nobody tells me anything!”

Rhys chuckled in response, squeezing past her to the sitting room. “It was a surprise to me too, actually. Azriel showed up at the House of Wind about an hour ago with Danuta in tow.” Cerys’ head whipped around towards him. “ _Really?_ Did he say why?”

Rhys shot her a knowing look. “Nope,” he smirked, “Just that it was a priority I deliver her safely into your arms as soon as possible.” Danuta laughed, looping her arm around Cerys’ shoulder and pulling her into the sitting room.

“You did always like the ‘strong and silent’ type, Cerys.” She gasped, feeling her face turn bright red. “He’s just a friend!” She glanced furtively at Rhys, who was still smirking. Pulling Danuta’s arm, she led her to the seats in front of the fire, away from Rhys’ prying ears.

Lowering her voice, she leaned towards Danuta, “Besides, I _really_ don’t think I’m his type. Plus,” she glanced over to make sure Rhys had moved into the kitchen, “even if I was, I hardly think he’d go for his best friend’s sister.” Danuta raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Ok, if you insist. He is easy on the eyes, however, and you know I don’t usually go for his type.”

Cerys giggled, heart light at having her friend back. “Type being _males?”_ Danuta laughed, nodding. “Exactly.”

They passed the time laughing and reminiscing in front of the fire, content to be reunited once more. Cerys thought her friend looked well rested, her face and lanky form losing some of the gauntness being continually hungry led to. She was so unbelievably glad she was here.

Cerys felt light fingers on her shoulder, gently touching a curl. She looked up, spotting Feyre’s smiling face. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, we’re just waiting on Mor arriving.”

Danuta and Cerys had opposite reactions to Feyre’s words. Cerys stiffened, her stomach sinking as she remembered Azriel’s story earlier. She loved her cousin dearly, but couldn’t help feeling awkward at seeing her before she fully had a chance to digest Azriel’s words.

Danuta, on the other hand, lit up a brilliant red under her freckles. Cerys looked over at her curiously, as did Feyre. Cocking her head, Feyre raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Excited to see Mor, are we?” Danuta sputtered, face glowing even brighter. _“No,_ I mean… We became friends while I was at the moonstone palace.” She recovered herself slightly, sitting up straight. “It’ll be nice to have another familiar face, is all.”

Feyre grinned, shaking her head and turning to head back into the kitchen. Cerys giggled, elbowing Danuta in the ribs. “What was that all about?”

Danuta buried her head in her palms, groaning. “That was _so_ embarrassing.” She peeked out between her fingers at Cerys. “I have approximately zero chance with her, and I know she’s your cousin but…” She sighed wistfully. “She’s _gorgeous_ and she smells amazing.”

Cerys couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled out of her mouth at how smitten Danuta was. This would be the perfect distraction. “You always fall so quickly, Danuta.” She looked up at her, face now cradled in her palm. “I know,” she sighed. “Although, if it’s anything like the last time it’ll pass soon enough.”

With that, she stood, rising to her full, impressive height and pointed her finger down at Cerys menacingly. “Don’t you dare let on! It’s just puppy love, I’ll be over it within the week.” Cerys laughed, getting to her feet. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word,” she said as they walked into the kitchen.

Dinner passed with easy conversation, Danuta slipping into the group dynamic frictionlessly. Mor was running late, Rhys explained as they had sat down. She was with Cassian and Azriel at the Hewn City and would be coming round with both of them after they had eaten. After Azriel had dropped off Danuta, he had gone back to the Court of Nightmares, apparently.

Cerys had felt mildly relieved, she wasn’t sure how to approach Mor yet after what Azriel had told her. Settling back into her seat while Feyre, Rhys and Danuta chatted about some of the places her and Danuta had lived over the years, Cerys’ mind fell unwillingly onto his story.

She felt his sadness as he had talked, his face showing cracks of heartbreak and loneliness through the mask of indifference. Cerys sensed he had a lot of mixed emotions over the whole experience, but was deeply uncomfortable with voicing them.

She felt honoured that he had chosen to share with her. They were both broken, in more similar ways than she could’ve imagined. A secret part of her hoped they could help each other through the healing process.

Cerys sighed, toying with her food. She was becoming quite fond of the shadowsinger. In what capacity, she wasn’t sure. He was definitely attractive with his elegant, stoic face and warrior’s build. More than that, he intrigued her.

She wasn’t a complete novice to relationships or attraction. Admittedly, her experience wasn’t overly vast, but she had managed to take a few lovers over the years. In one lonely village on the continent, years ago, she met a male, a _man,_ she reminded herself as he was human, who she thought she could’ve grown to love.

That particular mistake had earned her a swift punishment in the form of moving to a barren desert with only her makeshift family as company. Maja was furious with her that she had allowed herself to form an attachment.

 _Attachments,_ as Maja had ruthlessly insisted, were luxuries not afforded to girls on the run. Nevertheless, Cerys continued to seek out companionship where she could, mostly of the physical kind, and usually only for a night.

As tempting as it was, her mind drifting to thoughts of his impressive wingspan, spending a night or two with Azriel would definitely be a huge mistake. She was serious when she told Danuta earlier she was sure he wasn’t looking at her that way. For one, her and Mor were leagues apart in the looks department. For two, more importantly, she was Rhys’ sister. It would never work.

Pulling herself out of her revere, she noticed everyone shifting out of their seats and moving into the sitting room. Rhys caught her eye, stepping closer. “Mor, Cassian and Az are on their way over. Things didn’t go very well with Maja today and they wanted to talk to you about it.” Cerys nodded, stomach sinking. Maja wasn’t really the type to make things easy.

She trailed Rhys into the sitting room as the hall door open and Mor, Cassian and Azriel walked in, all in leathers and looking tired. Cerys watched from the corner as Danuta’s eyes lit up, swiftly rising to her feet and making her way over to Mor. She glanced over at Azriel, finding his eyes already on her. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he lowered himself onto the sofa.

His head tilted to rest against the back of the seat, stretching his neck out. Cerys was momentarily motionless, watching as he kneaded his shoulder with one hand, letting out a quiet groan. She could see the tendons in his neck flex as he shifted, hair falling over his brow. She swallowed.

Someone cleared their throat to her left, making her jump. Looking over, Cassian was staring at her with a wolfish grin. He chuckled, “Something caught your eye?” She felt a blush move swiftly up her neck under his watchful eyes. This was getting out of control, she needed to get ahold of herself.

Determined to lead him off the scent, she delivered a quick swat to Cassian’s shoulder. “Stop it, no! I was just trying to figure out what Danuta and Mor were talking about,” she gestured past Azriel to where they were standing talking, close to the wall behind him. Cassian shot her a knowing look, mercifully allowing her to change the subject.

He crossed his arms, sighing. “Mor’s probably telling Danuta about earlier, with her mother.” He shook his head ruefully, “she’s some piece of work.” Cerys snorted, understatement of the century. “What happened?”

Cassian pointed his thumb towards Azriel. “You’d be better off talking to Az, he was leading the interrogation. Besides,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “I’d wager you’d rather hear it from him.” She shot him a withering glare, but headed in Azriel’s direction nonetheless.

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Azriel was exhausted. Maja had been infuriatingly obstinate and it had taken everything in him to keep himself from tearing her apart when bits of her story came to light. He could barely stand to be in her presence for a day, and Cerys had dealt with her for _centuries._

His jaw clicked, clenched painfully tight. Cerys. Throughout the day, she had been the only thing on his mind. The strange relief he had felt at sharing a bit of himself this morning, his absolute fury at Maja for what she had put her through. Someone so kind and genuine as Cerys should not have been put through what she did.

He shifted in his seat, letting his eyes close as his head rested against the seat. His shadows buzzed around him energetically despite his tiredness. Pulling his teeth apart, he forced his body to relax. It was better to try to move past how furious the day had made him.

A hand touched his shoulder, pressing firmly. It felt exquisite on the sore muscle and he couldn’t help letting out a soft groan, peeling his eyes open. Cerys stood above him, eyes wide. He felt his cheeks colour slightly. She smirked, pressing her hand down harder, her thumb kneading. He sighed, stretching his neck to the side. “I suppose I look a bit in pain at the moment.”

She laughed quietly, continuing her ministrations. “A little bit.” She lapsed into silence for a moment as he fought letting himself melt completely under her touch. “Your shoulders are _very_ tight.” He nodded, reluctantly sitting upright and motioning for her to join him on the sofa. She sat close next to him, folding her legs under her. Azriel looked down at her knees, tucked to the side and pressing into his thigh.

He looked up slowly. Cerys’ eyes were dark, mouth slightly parted. He couldn’t help but let his gaze soak her in. Her curls were their usual riotous tumble, backlit by the candlelit room. She was wearing a fitted black, soft looking dress, leaving her legs exposed. His eyes flicked down, noting her bare skin and thick woollen socks.

Chuckling, he brought his gaze back to hers. “Doesn’t the bare legs counteract the thick socks?” He asked, tone light and teasing. She blushed slightly, pushing her knees further into him. “Not really, it’s a warm room. Besides, I’m used to far colder temperatures than this.”

His mood shifted as she spoke, remembering his day with Maja. “So I’ve heard. After today, I’m impressed you lasted as long as you did without killing Maja outright.” She laughed sharply, running her fingers through her hair, leading it to fall over one shoulder. His eyes tracked the movement.

“I’m surprised I didn’t, too. What happened? Did you learn anything?” He continued to watch her play with her hair, thinking. “Yes and no. We still don’t know who was behind your kidnapping, but I’m thinking it was someone in the Spring Court. Perhaps the last High Lord.”

She looked up, eyebrows high. “Tamlin’s father?” He nodded, clearly she had been made privy to Feyre’s story. “One in the same. Maja insinuated the order came from high up, and we know her and Jakub originate from the Spring Court.” She bit her lip, considering. “I suppose it would make sense, there’s always been tension between the courts. Do you have any idea why?”

He shook his head, “No. And we don’t know why you were kidnapped and not killed, to be frank. Maja was paid every year to keep you alive, for what purpose we still don’t know.” He frowned. That was the main source of his anger. He was well versed in methodically and expertly getting information out of captives, but Maja was proving difficult.

Cerys looked up, eyes suddenly serious. “Can I ask what measures you had to go to to get the information?” She studied his face, waiting for an answer. Azriel wasn’t massively keen on telling her his interrogation tactics, but she deserved to know.

“If you’re asking if I tortured her, not exactly.” She let out a breath, looking vaguely relieved. “I did have to use some… forceful tactics but nothing serious.” She nodded, “I know I shouldn’t feel bad for her, but it’s hard not to when she was the only mother figure I had for so many years.” Her face hardened. “But don’t feel like you should go easy on her for that reason.”

He reached out and gently grabbed one of her curls, letting it slide through his fingers. His heart clenched for her, it must be difficult to see someone you trusted betray you so absolutely. “I understand… I’m sorry that this is how you and Maja are parting ways.” She ducked her chin, dark eyelashes fanning across her cheeks.

“Thank you. I appreciate it, truly.” She scooted imperceptibly closer to him, her bare knees sliding against his leather covered thigh. Azriel was suddenly gripped with the desire to find out if her legs were as soft as they looked. Slowly, he let her curl drop, resting his hand not too far from her leg. She continued to sit silently next to him, almost like she was waiting to see what he might do.

Just as he was summoning the courage to stroke a finger against the soft skin at the hem of her dress, Rhys threw himself on the sofa next to Cerys.

He withdrew his hand reluctantly, Cerys letting out a rough breath. It was for the best, he told himself. He doubted Cerys wanted to feel his scarred hands against her perfect skin.

Rhys leaned over, looking between them. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you both about. I was thinking it might be time for Cerys to start training.” Azriel frowned slightly, looking over at Cerys. Her whole face had lit up with excitement, smiling at her brother.

Rhys continued, “I think training her magic first then moving onto flying might be the best way to go.” Cerys mouth pulled down slightly, Azriel knew how much she was looking forward to flying again. Rhys’ gaze shifted to Azriel.

“Az… with your magic similar to Cerys’ and flying experience I thought you could be the one to train her, if you don’t mind.” Cerys turned to face him, eyes wide. He nodded slowly, feeling equal measures excitement and trepidation. He was keen to spend more time with her, but Mor’s words from the other night played in his head. He wasn’t what she needed.

He couldn’t say no to Rhys, or to Cerys for that matter, her face beginning to take on that coy, pleading look she liked to employ when she wanted something. “Ok, I can train her.” Her answering smile pulled at something in him. Rhys nodded, moving to rise.

“Great, you can start tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why exactly but I really loved writing this chapter! Super excited for them to start training as well 👀 As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, thanks!!


	10. Ten

Things get a bit steamy here, you've been warned! 👀

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Azriel woke early, the sun just beginning to peak over the mountains. He laid in his bed, trying to slow his breathing. His dreams had been… interesting last night to say the least.

It seemed his growing tension with Cerys was taking over his subconscious with a vengeance. He had woken up with visions still flashing through his head, forcing him to take care of the evidence of his arousal himself.

Cerys, beneath him, dark hair wild and chest heaving. In his dreams, he’d put his shadows to use, securing her wrists above her head and taking his time with her body. He swallowed, muscles tense as he recalled her straining against the bonds, head thrown back as he brought her to ecstasy with his fingers, his mouth, again and again.

Stepping into the shower, he shifted the temperature to ice cold immediately. As much as he was growing fond of the idea of her spread out under him, she was strictly off limits, he told himself. Gods, _Rhys’ sister._

Forcing any untoward thoughts from his head, he left his house in a rush. They were meeting at the bench by the waterfall again, he’d fly them up into the mountains from there. They didn’t necessarily need to be secluded for her to unleash her magic, but it didn’t hurt.

He landed softly behind the bench, spotting her dark head already there. Her curls were tamed into a long braid today, tendrils already escaping to stubbornly to blow about in the wind. She stood, turning to face him. Despite himself, his gaze roved eagerly over her body.

Feyre had clearly helped her procure some leathers, she was dressed in formfitting, battle black. She smirked at him, giving a slow spin. His eyes caught guiltily on her rather spectacular backside, despite her small frame. The gods wanted to torture him today, apparently.

“What do you think? It’s been a while since I’ve been in leathers.” She looked down, running her hands over her body. Her eyes flicked up to his mischievously, “Plenty of places to store knives.”

 _Cauldron_ if she had knives strapped to her, he’d be done for. He fought his face into impassivity. “It’s a good look. Right, we need to be going.” She looked vaguely disappointed at his aloofness. It was for the best, he told himself firmly.

Cerys stepped forward, positioning herself to be lifted. He slid his palms over her, one under her knees and the other curled around her waist. She kept her eyes fixed on his as he lifted her, wings spread wide. Her gaze left his to scan the area as they lifted above the tree line, shooting up into the clouds.

Sighing with contentment, she tucked herself into his chest. Azriel employed every tactic he knew to slow his racing heart, certain she could feel it under her ear. Minutes past as they flew in silence.

Flying through the snow covered peaks now, Cerys craned her neck back to meet his eyes. He couldn’t help but note the position of her long neck was remarkably similar to dream-Cerys this morning. He just couldn’t seem to stop his mind running rampant.

“Where are you taking me today?” Her tone was bright, eager. “Just a clearing I like to use for training in the mountains. It’s not far from hot springs, actually.” Cerys’ eyes lit up at that. “ _Really?”_ She giggled. “Azriel, are you trying to get me out of my clothes?”

They fell several feet through the air as his muscles locked up in shock. “ _What?_ No!” Yes, actually, but he really shouldn’t. She laughed brightly, pinching his shoulder. “I’m just kidding, no need to look so scandalised.” She continued chuckling at the expression on his face.

Kidding, it was a joke. He told himself firmly. No need to get worked up. He let his wings spread out to coast them to the ground, looking around carefully to make sure they didn’t land on ice. The ground rushed up as she moved to loop an arm securing around his neck, momentarily distracting him.

His feet landed squarely on a particularly slick patch of ice, invisible under a light layer of snow. Balance immediately falling out from under him, he shifted his body to avoid crushing Cerys. She landed unceremoniously on top of him, hands either side of his face, right next to the base of his wings.

She sat straddling him, breathing hard. His hands were still wrapped firmly around her waist, holding her to him. Cerys’ pupils were wide, eyes moving over his face. She didn’t show any inclination for moving. He continued to lay under her, curious to see what she’d do.

Her eyes shifted to where her hands rested by his head, curiosity overtaking her face. Slowly, he felt her body move. A soft finger brushed against the base of his wing and he sucked in a desperate breath. The gesture went straight to his cock.

Her eyes flashed back to his, she shifted briefly over him, pressing against his erection for barely a second before rising. His eyes closed as he willed himself back under control, moving to sit upright in the snow. _Why_ had she stroked his wing. This was hard enough as it is.

She cleared her throat, shifting on her feet. Pulling his eyes up, he squinted at her face through the sunlight. She looked remarkably calm. Lucky for her.

Pushing fully to his feet, Azriel swiftly manoeuvred his shadows to obscure any evidence she could see of his arousal. He felt like a youngling again, barely able to control himself. Shaking his head slightly, he tried to get the day back on track.

“Apologies for the rough landing, the, ah, ice.” He gestured lamely around him. She snickered, “It’s no bother. Rough landings aren’t the worst.” Was she flirting with him?

“Right. Yes. Okay, let’s start with some basic exercises.” Her face shifted to match his serious tone, hands spread wide in front of her. He continued, “How about you show me what you’re able to do right now and we’ll go from there.”

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Hours passed and Cerys could barely summon more than a tendril of darkness from her cupped palms. She sighed in frustration, beginning to shiver in earnest now that the sun had dipped below the tree line.

Azriel had been nothing but patient with her, guiding her to isolate the darkness in her and manipulate in into individual strands. He’d shown her with shadows of his own, moving them to wrap around her wrists, binding them together. His face had gone dark when he did that, mouth parting. Curious.

She’d just about had enough. She was freezing, a bone deep type of cold that doesn’t leave easily. “Azriel,” she sighed at last. “I don’t know how much longer I can stay out here, I’m starting to think I’ll never be warm again.”

His eyes flashed up to meet hers, worried. He moved closer, gaze searching over her face. “Cerys, your lips are blue. Why didn’t you say earlier?” He frowned, gathering her hands between his and rubbing briskly to work the circulation back. “Will you be alright to fly back? I can shield us somewhat from the cold, but not entirely.”

She had tried to speak but her chattering teeth wouldn’t let her form words. His frown deepened, picking her up swiftly, cradling her against the warmth of his chest. “I think you need to warm up before we fly back. I can take us to the hot springs if you’d like.” His tone turned light, teasing. “Blink once if you want to go to the hot springs.”

She let her eyelashes tickle her cheeks and he rose to the sky at once. “It’ll only be a few minutes, I promise,” he murmured, lips against his ear. She could get used to this. As he flew, she became suddenly nervous. She didn’t have anything to bathe in, and imagined Azriel didn’t either. This could get very interesting.

He landed at the mouth of a large cave, ancient, stone sconces lining the walls. Continuing to carry her, he lit them with a flash of magic as they walked deeper into the cave.

The temperature rose drastically, becoming balmy and damp with steam. He gently set her down on a rock beside the bubbling water. Lit by firelight, it looked warm and inviting to her cold, tired body. She looked up at him. “What are we going to wear?”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Well, I’ll go in my undershorts. What you wear is up to you. I won’t look if you’d be more comfortable.” She nodded, numb fingers struggling with the clasps on her leathers. “I may need some help with this,” she mumbled.

Walking closer, she watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. His hands gently began working the buckles and buttons loose, moving down her body. The cave was silent save for their breathing and the sounds of the leathers coming undone. She watched his face as he worked, admiring his dark hair beginning to stick to his forehead. The elegant planes of his face, his full lips.

When her leathers hung loose, revealing the top of the band wrapped tightly across her breasts and flashes of pale stomach, her stepped back, turning his back to her as he worked his own clothing off. Her chest feeling suddenly tight, she slid her jacked off, wiggling her trousers off her hips. Looking down, she was grateful she choose the black breast band and matching underwear, at least it wouldn’t turn sheer in the water.

Her eyes moved to watch him greedily. His own leathers slide from his shoulders, parting over his wings, to reveal a powerful back decorated with swirling, Illyrian tattoos. His shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and surprisingly delicate dimples above where his undershorts started. He was beautiful, there was no other word for it.

Stifling a sigh, she stepped into the water. It was deliciously warm, sliding up her body to lap against her chest. She turned to watch Azriel join her. His chest and abs were just as mind boggling as the back of him, she fought herself from leering openly as he moved through the water towards her. His eyes were impossibly dark in the low light.

He stopped an arms length aways, eyes moving quickly to the tops of her breasts and back up to her eyes. She was curious to see if he was as attracted to her as she was to him, tilting her head back to dip into the water, exposing her still covered breasts fully. She heard his sharp intake of breath, smiling slightly at his response. Her mind flashed back to earlier, when she had sat atop him in the snow. She _knew_ she had felt him growing aroused beneath her.

“Cerys…” he began, voice low. “You’re Rhys’ sister.” She chuckled, “Yes, I’m aware.” He sighed, grappling with himself. She had quite frankly had enough, she felt a connection with him and cauldron knew she found him attractive. She wanted to discover more about him, intimately.

She slowly moved towards him in the water, sliding a hand up his neck to gently touch his face. His hand shot up to close over her wrist, holding her hand in place. “I don’t want to do anything we’ll later regret.” His tone was serious but the lust was blatant on his face. “Will you regret a kiss?” She said softly, moving closer.

Azriel hesitated, eyes searching hers. Slowly, so slowly, his hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. They both sighed as their torsos pressed flush, the heat was unbelievable. His hand around her wrist moved to her neck, sliding around the back to gently pull her braid. Her head tilted back, exposing her throat.

She bit back a moan as his lips ghosted over her neck, moving to suck lightly against her pulse. His tongue flicked out to touch her overheated skin. Her breath was coming in subtle pants now, one hand burying itself in his soft hair, the other sliding around his shoulder.

His lips moved down, sliding over her collarbone. He continued to hold her head in place by her braid, she was unable to move an inch against his ministrations. Her eyes fluttered closed as he licked and sucked his way up the other side of her neck, taking her earlobe between his teeth.

“ _Gods,”_ she softly moaned, shifting against him as he played with her ear. He shuddered in reply, releasing her braid to thread his fingers through the curls at the nape of her neck. His mouth moved across her cheek lazily to gently kiss the side of her mouth.

“Azriel,” she started, voice low and pleading. “Kiss me.” He slid his nose alongside hers, letting out a low, seductive laugh against her skin. He paused, lips a hairsbreadth away. She held her breath, body tense with anticipation.

His mouth was on hers then, soft and insistent. He tasted like everything good in the world. Her mouth parted further and his tongue slipped in to caress hers, angling her face to deepen the kiss. Like everything he did, his kiss was insistent and precise, reducing her into a lightheaded mess within seconds.

She slid both arms around his shoulders now, drawing him closer, drinking him in. He was positively addicting, how could he think they’d regret this? Their kisses started to grow more and more intense, his hand sliding down her waist to cup her ass, pressing her flush against him.

She groaned into his mouth, lifting slightly to wrap her legs around him, pressing her core directly over him, grinding down. He pulled back, head tilted, breathing hard. She kissed down his jaw, sucking on his skin greedily, marking him. He gripped her ass tighter to him, pressing himself against her, bringing his mouth forcefully back to hers. She was moving one hand down his body, keen to get her hand around him when he suddenly pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.

“I think,” he caught his breath, “We should stop.” He pulled back enough to see her face. His hair was wild, cheeks flushed. Delicious. “I don’t want to do this here.” He laughed quietly, brining his lips to her ear. “I have plans for you, Cerys, and they don’t involve being partially submerged in water.” She let out a strangled breath.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, regretfully unwinding her legs from his waist and moving to stand on shaking legs. He raised an eyebrow. “Good. I expect you to.” _Cauldron_ she imagined he was good in bed, but she didn’t fully expect this side of him. She was impatient to see more of it. “When will I get to experience your…plans.”

He chuckled, helping her out of the water and drying her with a brush of hot wind across her oversensitive body. Leaning over, he planted a slow kiss on her mouth, drawing away too soon. “We’ll see. Not long.” She sighed, dressing swiftly. It couldn’t come soon enough, as far as she was concerned.

They left the cave in a hurry, the sun was long down and the temperature had dropped drastically. Despite the bone chilling cold, she felt warm and content, a smile plastered on her face. Euphoric. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as they left the cave, he was preoccupied straightening his leathers and securing extra straps, messy hair falling over his face. She was delighted to notice a dark red mark marring the skin on his neck.

Now that she had a taste of him, all she wanted was another. She wanted to know everything about him. What he looked like naked, what his home was like. What sounds he make when he came. _Gods…_ her mind spun at the options, pressing her thighs together to relieve some of the tension.

Azriel’s eyes flicked up, still dark and heavy. Moving quickly, he swept her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Eager to get as close as possible, she tucked in tight, pressing her nose into his neck and breathing him in.

They soared over the pines, the night sky clear and littered with stars above them. Beautiful. She leaned her head back against his bicep, content to stare at the sky as he flew them home, soaking in his presence and the feel of him around her.

She felt a slight tugging on the end of her braid as Azriel released the tie at the end of it, carding his fingers through to let her curls fly around them. He sighed against her, looking down.

“I love your hair.” His hand was fully wrapped in it now, gently pulling through it. She moaned slightly at the sensation, letting her head fall fully back, eyes closed. “I’m glad, I love you pulling on it.” Her eyes flicked open, winking teasingly. “I mean… playing with it.”

She watched his throat bob as he chuckled, fingers tugging harder through her hair. It felt exquisite. He lowered his mouth to kiss her neck as they flew over Velaris. They’d be landing soon and she was entirely too wound up. Pulling upright, she looked into his eyes.

“Can we go to yours?” She wasn’t really one to mess around, but propositioning him like this was bold, even for her.

He hesitated, eyes wide. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Her heart fell and she looked away, embarrassed. “Hey,” soft fingers under her chin, pulling her gaze back. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I _really_ want to. It’s just…” he trailed off, focusing his gaze on the ground as he landed, close to the Sidra but not too far from the river house.

Still holding her, he turned his attention back. “I don’t want it to be a one night thing.” His tone was quiet, hesitant. “For one, Rhys would absolutely rip me to shreds. For two, I… care about you. I don’t want to do everything in one night. As tempting as it may be.”

Cerys nodded, drinking in his words. “Okay, that makes sense. I agree.” She blew out a breath, sliding her hand behind his head, playing with his hair. “For the record, I care about you too, and…” she leaned closer, pressing her lips against his ear. “When it is time for everything? I want to be somewhere we can’t be disturbed. I want _days.”_

He swallowed, turning to once more press his lips against hers. Pulling back too soon, he whispered against her lips, “You’ll get days, don’t worry about that.” Setting her down, sliding her down his body, he shook his head lightly, letting the cold air bring him back to reality.

“Right. Let’s get you home before Rhys sends out a search party.” Giggling, she looped her arm through his and let him walk her to her door, heart light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Things are definitely heating up. Should have the next chapter up tomorrow at the latest, if you haven't noticed I have wayyy too much spare time lately hence how quick this is going up! I'd love to hear your thoughts on how their relationship is developing, thanks everyone!


	11. Eleven

Another chapter today because I just can't help myself!!!

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Cerys let herself in quietly through the front door, creeping past the threshold. She felt like a child again, giddy with infatuation and nervous she was going to be caught sneaking in so late.

The hall door opened, Rhys’ head sticking through, catching her before she could run up the stairs. “Cerys?” He caught glimpse of her frozen in the hall. “You’re in late… care to come in for a glass of wine?” He opened the door wider, gesturing her to come in.

She blushed, steadying herself and praying her excitement didn’t show on her face, stepping past him into the sitting room. Rhys followed her in, moving to the table by the fire to pour her a glass. She accepted it gratefully, taking a fortifying gulp.

Rhys lowered himself into the chair across from her, eyes sweeping across her face. He smirked, “training went well, I gather?” She desperately fought a blush, nodding. “Yes, as well as can be expected. I managed to manipulate the darkness into individual strands but not too much else, it got cold quickly.”

He hummed, eyes still watching her carefully. “Did he take you up into the mountains?” She paused, wondering if answering truthfully would give too much away. “…Yes. About half an hour’s flight from the edge of town.” His eyes lit up, saying coyly, “Ah, so not too far from the hot springs.”

She couldn’t help choking on her wine, turning a brilliant red. Rhys let out a barking laugh, leaning forward to smack her back helpfully as she sputtered. “I knew it! You were gone far too long to have only been in the freezing mountains.” She turned away, wiping her mouth. “You don’t know anything,” she shot him a glare, willing him into silence.

He chucked, sitting back in his seat. “I can guess. Speaking of which, what’s that on your neck?” Will the torture never end? She quickly moved her hair around her shoulders, fearing its wild tangles would give even more away. Rhys leaned forward, serious now.

“Are you two involved? I mean, more than physically.” His eyes remained light but his face was solemn, adopting the role of protective big brother with ease. She groaned in exasperation, covering her face with her hands.

“Rhyssss… do we have to be having this conversation?” He shot her a knowing look, continuing the interrogation. “I’m not asking for details, just it would be good to know. You haven’t been here long and I’ve know Az nearly his entire life.” She sighed, he was well-meaning, at least. Honesty might serve her well, in this instance.

“Yes, I mean. I don’t know. I’d like it to be… more.” She looked down, twining her fingers together. “I like being around him, I’m interested in getting to know him.” Her eyes flicked up. Rhys looked concerned. “Does he feel the same?”

“I think so,” she trailed off, feeling nervous. “Not to share too many intimate details, but I did invite myself over to his home. Which he said no to.” Rhys’ eyebrows flicked up. “Really? Interesting…” He glanced out the window, deep in thought.

Cerys sat fidgeting. She’d love to know what was on his mind. “Well, he did say you’d murder him outright if it was just a one night thing.” Rhys snorted, continuing to look out the window. After a long moment, he sighed, turning his eyes back to hers.

“Cerys… I’m not saying I don’t approve. I love Az like a brother. Just, be sure he’s who you really want before you get in any further with him.” He frowned, considering his words. “I don’t know what he’s shared with you, but he hasn’t had the easiest time with females. As much as I’d hate to see you get hurt, I wouldn’t wish the same on him.”

Playing with her hair, Cerys nodded thoughtfully. “He’s told me a bit about Mor.” She was sure Rhys was well aware of the history there, though she would be careful not to share the personal details Azriel had entrusted her with.

He looked surprised. “He did? That’s good. Over the years I tried to stay out of it, leaving it to them to sort out. However, I will say this,” he paused, shifting in his seat. “Mor is closer to me than almost anyone else, and I love her dearly. But I don’t think she was right to string him along all these years.” Cerys nodded emphatically, she fully agreed.

“Azriel has a lot of love to give, even if he doesn’t think so. Just promise me if you start to have second thoughts, you’ll let him know right away.” Meeting his eyes, she bobbed her head in agreement. “I will. Although, I don’t really see that happening. There’s this connection between us I’ve never felt with anyone else.”

Rhys smiled in earnest now, all traces of his serious, protective mood wiped away. “I’m glad. Azriel is the best kind of male and I can see you two together. He’s had a difficult life and deserves to feel loved and admired.” His eyes were warm, Cerys could tell how highly he thought of his brother.

“I agree. I’m looking forward to… getting to know him.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously at him. He scoffed, moving to stand. “I _really_ don’t need the details.” She laughed, gathering her glass and moving towards the door. “Hey, it’s only payback for cauldron knows what went on in that forsaken cabin.” Rhys’ laughter chased her up the stairs, light on her feet.

She got to her room, toeing her boots off to sink her toes into the soft carpet. She was entirely too wound up to sleep, although it was late. A bath might help.

Slipping off her leathers as she walked, she turned the taps on scalding, pouring in some lavender scented bath oil to help relax her. While she waited for it to fill, she turned to examine herself in the mirror.

Running a brush through her tangled curls, she twisted them into a knot atop her head. They were a frizzy mess from being brushed and the bun was huge, nearly the size of her head. She giggled, wondering what Azriel would think if he saw her now.

Her eyes moved over her appearance critically. It was no wonder Rhys knew they had been up to something, her eyes were nearly manic, lips bruised looking. Not to mention the purpling marks littering her throat and collarbone. She twisted her neck back and forth, examining them. Truth be told, they thrilled her. The marks made her feel like _his._ She hoped he felt the same.

She unwrapped her breast band and stepped out of her underpants, looking over her body. Her eyes fixed on her breasts, they were rather small. Mind moving to Mor’s impressive chest, she felt a shiver of self consciousness. Sighing, she quickly moved on. She had always been slim, with a narrow waist and hips. She turned to the side, now _that_ was something she loved about her body. Despite her boyish figure, she had more than enough to grab onto in the backside department. In fact, her cheeks heating, she remembered Azriel wasting no time doing just that.

The bath was finally full and she stepped in with a groan, slipping all the way in to her chin. Heavenly. She slid the cloth over the arms and chest, luxuriating in the sensation. Her body still felt sensitive from her time with Azriel, she flinched slightly as the coarse cloth brushed against her nipples.

Immediately, her mind began replaying every glorious moment of their kisses. Abandoning the washcloth, she gently ran her fingers over her chest, moaning aloud. Her thighs rubbed together under the water, desperate to relieve the growing tension below. She let her mind run, imagining it was him running his hands over her in the water, playing with her nipples. If they had given in fully in the hot springs.

She slipped a hand down between her thighs to the growing moisture there, sighing. As her fingers worked, she imagined Azriel’s hands, his mouth, between her legs. He had kissed her so expertly, she knew he would be unbelievable when she finally got his tongue on her.

Body tensing, she bent her knees, moving faster. Her mind quickly supplied images of Azriel licking her, bringing her to the edge over and over before finally letting her come. Slapping a hand over her mouth to stop any noise, she came violently over her fingers, legs shaking. Letting her hand fall away, she tried to steady her breathing, head falling back against the rim of the tub.

She floated bonelessly in the water, finally ready for sleep. Cauldron, if she could come that hard from just _imagining_ him… his plans couldn’t come soon enough.

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The next morning Azriel woke early, as usual. He was eager for his training with Cerys today, although Rhys was joining them so he highly doubted there’d be a repeat performance of yesterday’s activities. He wondered if she had told Rhys they were… involved. Knowing Rhys, he would’ve taken one look at her and guessed immediately. He probably shouldn’t have left so many marks on her perfect neck, but he just couldn’t help himself.

They were leaving the next day for the island cabin for Solstice. Azriel was in two minds about the trip. On one hand, he was looking forward to spending time with Cerys someplace she loved so dearly. Secretly, he hoped to get some alone time with her for some more. Not in the house, of course. He’d have to have a scope around the island.

Drawing his mind back from its pleasurable musings, his mood darkened slightly at the downside to their trip away. Everyone would be there, save Amren, in close proximity. For a week. He knew Mor would notice him and Cerys getting closer, and he was worried she’d try to get in the middle of it.

Azriel was resolved to not let her rule his life any more, he was happy for the first time in a while. He was enjoying getting to know Cerys and was eager to keep anything from getting in the way.

Within minutes he was into his leathers and out the door, taking to the sky. He was meeting Cerys and Rhys at the House of Wind and he was keen to get there before they arrived to take a moment to himself.

It was a beautiful day once again. Clear, cold and with the sun shining brightly. Ideal. He let himself take a few lazy loops in the sky, feeling lighthearted. His time with Cerys in the hot springs had been mind-blowing, he was amazed by how much he wanted her.

Refusing her offer to come back to his was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. If he didn’t see a future with her he would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. His body had been screaming at him for saying no, desperate to have her naked and begging under him.

Fighting a groan, he opened his wings wide, gliding on top of the clouds. She had felt so perfect, so _right_ , under his hands and mouth last night. Her soft sighs of pleasure, nails scraping his shoulders and into his hair. The way her legs had been quick to wrap around his waist. Her skin flushed and marked under his ministrations.

He wasn’t lying when he said he had plans for her. She would get her wish, his plans indeed would take days and days. He didn’t think he’s ever wanted a female so badly.

Azriel desperately tried to think of anything else, feeling himself grow hard the more he thought about him and Cerys together. The last thing he wanted was to show up at the House of Wind with a hard-on, especially with Rhys there.

Thinking of the upcoming day of training, he mentally planned out the exercises for Cerys to complete to work on her magic. Gliding to a balcony off the house, he felt under control once again. Barely.

Leaning against the railing, he watched the sky for Rhys and Cerys’ arrival. He didn’t have to wait long, minutes later he spotted Rhys swooping in, jokingly flinging Cerys into the air and catching her. She was laughing gleefully, curls flying wild around her. Azriel’s heart clenched, watching her.

Landing, they walked over towards Azriel together, Rhys’ arm looped over Cerys’ shoulder. Cerys’ smile was bright, eyes crinkled and happy. Azriel surveyed them from the railing, arms crossed. Collecting themselves, Rhys motioned for Cerys to grab them both some water from inside.

Turning to Azriel, his face became instantly serious. Here we go.

“So. You and Cerys.” He wasn’t beating around the bush, apparently. Azriel slowly nodded, ridding his face of any emotion. Rhys took a step forward, wings flaring slightly. “It goes without saying, but if you hurt her…” He trailed off, eyebrow raised pointedly. Shaking his head slightly, Azriel huffed a laugh.

“Rhys, I would never do anything to hurt her.” His eyes trailed her moving around inside, words measured. “I care for her.” Rhys smiled slightly, “Good.” He clapped his hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Don’t think you’re the only one getting a stern word. She got one as well.”

His eyebrows shot up, “about hurting _me?”_ Rhys quirked an eyebrow, nodding. “Yes, she may be my sister but you’re like a brother to me. Always have been.” Azriel felt a sudden rush of affection, touching Rhys’ hand on his shoulder quickly before turning to greet Cerys walking their way.

She smiled at him, cheeks turning pink. He let himself smile back at her, aware of Rhys’ eyes on him. She wasn’t in her leathers today, opting for fitted black trousers and a structured bright blue jacket. The colour brought out the violet in her eyes.

Rhys suddenly clapped his hands together, drawing their eyes away from each other. “Shall we? We only have a few hours before we need to be getting everything ready for tomorrow.”

Cerys tucked her chin, taking a few steps back and stretching out her palms. Brow furrowed in concentration, she slowly summoned twin ropes of black, spreading from her hands to twine up her arms.

She allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction before returning her focus to direct the tendrils in Azriel’s direction. She was doing so well today, their hours yesterday in the cold clearly paying off. He watched, standing completely still, as her shadows moved off her arms to slide through the air in his direction.

He couldn’t help but smile with pride as her shadows made contact with his skin, wrapping securely around his wrists before giving a swift tug, pulling him forward so he was suddenly pressed against Cerys.

Chuckling, he sent his own shadows to slide up her body and tickle her cheek. She laughed, face inches from his. He couldn’t help but stare down at her, mesmerised. Her shadows travelled off his wrists to slide around his neck, tugging his face down. Before his lips could make contact, a pointed cough sounded behind him.

Cerys froze, grumbling. Clearly they both had forgotten Rhysand standing there, arms crossed. He shook his head at them, “Really? I’m right here.” She laughed, releasing him and shrugging her shoulders at her brother.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” she grinned. Rhys rolled his eyes in response. “I’m obviously not wanted here. I have a few things I need to check in my office, I’ll be back shortly.” He shot Azriel a stern look. “Minutes. I’ll be back in minutes.” With that, he turned and walked into the house, hands deep in his pockets.

Cerys watched him go before launching herself at him, sliding her hands up his chest to pull at his hair, bringing his face down. He laughed at her enthusiasm before her mouth met his roughly. Her hands were everywhere, he could barely keep up.

In a bid to slow her down, he wrapped his shadows around her wrists, currently buried in his hair. He pulled them down, trapping them behind her back. She pulled away, breathing hard. “Oh? That’s how you want to play?” She smirked, sinking back down off her toes. “Interesting,” her head was cocked as she surveyed him. Pushing her hands further back, she raised her eyebrow.

Azriel caught his breath, stunned. He wasn’t sure how she’d react when he trapped her hands. In his experience, female’s generally were ok with him using his shadows periodically in the bedroom, but he’d never met one who actually liked it, as Cerys seemed to. “Do you mind?”

She let out a low laugh, shaking her head. “Not at all.” Her pupils were huge, lips parted. Her scent had turned deeper, the amber notes standing out. Slowly, he moved forward, barely ghosting his lips over hers. “Stay still,” he whispered against her mouth. She sucked in a breath.

He worked his way down her neck, licking and kissing spots he marked last night. Gently, he slid open the buttons on her coat, revealing a soft grey t-shirt underneath. She remained still, eyes half mast, watching him. His eyes wandered down, taking her in.

His breath caught when he noticed she wasn’t wearing a breast band under her shirt. Meeting her eyes, he checked to see how she was doing. She kept still under his gaze, panting now. He watched as her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip.

Turning his attention back to her chest, he reached out and pressed his thumb against her nipple, rubbing slightly. Her back arched as she gasped, pressing her breast into his hand. He withdrew at once, shaking his head. “I said stay still.”

Whimpering, she straitened her spine. He touched her again, firmer this time, rolling her nipple over her shirt. He could see how much she strained to keep still, how desperately she wanted to push herself into him. His other hand rose, pulling at her other nipple. Cerys’ eyes were screwed shut, chin pointed up.

“Azriel… _please,”_ she moaned, body shaking. He decided she had done a good job staying still, releasing her wrists and holding her close to his body. Tilting her chin up, he met her mouth, sliding his tongue in. She pressed tightly against him, rubbing her chest against his. “Touch me. Please.”

He complied, sliding both palms up to cup her breasts, kneading gently. She moaned into his mouth, pushing into his hands. “Good,” he murmured against her lips, “just like that.” She sighed, kissing down his neck. Her hands worked their way under his shirt, sliding over his stomach, fingers pressing into the indents there. She scratched lightly with her nails, making his full body shiver.

Just as he was preparing to gather her into his arms to take her somewhere private, _anywhere,_ so they could continue, Rhys’ footsteps sounded in the hall, purposefully loud.

She groaned, disappointed. They both swiftly removed their hands off each other, righting clothes and smoothing down hair. He smirked at her, knowing full well the lust was evident on his face. Finishing up her jacket buttons, she shook her head, taking deep breaths.

Gods, she was going to be the death of him.

Rhys strolled in, pointedly ignoring their obvious dishevelment. Cauldron bless him. The rest of the training flew by uneventfully. Before he knew it, he was wishing Rhys and Cerys goodbye, promising to be at the riverhouse bright and early tomorrow to leave for Solstice.

Casting a furtive look at Rhysand, Cerys darted over, pressing a firm kiss to his lips before she left. Azriel stood on the balcony and watched them leave, their figures sinking into the distance. He felt a tug deep inside him, as she slipped from view, pulling his heart with her.


	12. Twelve

The whole group was crammed into the hallway bickering. They were meant to have already left hours ago for the island home but Cassian and Nesta were running late. The main argument currently revolved around who was going to go collect them. Cerys watched from her perch up the stairs, eating berries out of her cupped palm. It was like being at the theatre, she thought.

“Last time I went, do you know what I _saw?_ No one should have to see their sister like that!” Feyre was currently defending her position, hands planted on her hips. Rhys chuckled, agreeing with his mate. “I saw the same thing. It wasn’t pleasant.”

Mor was in the middle of it, slowly being pushed towards the door by Rhys. Elain was cowering by the sitting room door, Lucien by her side. Danuta looked like she was having a grand old time, supporting arguments where she thought might stir the pot the most. Cerys chuckled, glad she had escaped up the stairs to watch. In the corner of her eye, the shadows stirred slightly.

“I know you’re there, Az,” she kept her face forward to avoid ratting him out. “A wise decision, I’m sure you’re their first choice.” She heard a quiet laugh sound over her shoulder, a soft tendril of shadow moving along the back of her neck. Her whole body erupted in shivers.

“Where’s Azriel?” Mor shouted, looking around suspiciously. Her eyes landed on Cerys and she began stalking up the stairs. Cerys felt the air behind her shift as Azriel retreated further into shadow. Clever of him.

Cerys shrugged her shoulders innocently, continuing to pop berries in her mouth. Sensing a losing battle, Mor gave up looking for the shadowsinger and headed out the door, grumbling loudly all the way.

As soon as she left, Rhys caught everyone’s attention. “Okay, now that’s figured out, here’s the plan.” He pointed at Lucien and Elain. “You two, winnow with Danuta. Feyre and I will go with Cerys, Azriel will meet us there,” he looked around. “Wherever he is.” Hearing his name, Azriel appeared behind her out of the shadows.

“I’ll take Cerys.” Rhys nodded, smirking slightly. “Right. Mor will winnow Cassian and Nesta whenever she can get them out of the house.” Nodding to himself, he snapped his fingers, instantly vanishing all of their bags. “See you all there.”

As everyone winnowed away, Cerys stood, turning to meet Azriel’s eyes behind her. He was smiling at her warmly, moving to a few steps below her so they were eye level. His hand moved up, grabbing onto one of her curls and pulling slightly, letting it bounce in place.

“You ready to go?” She placed her hands on his shoulders, stepping closer. “Yeah. I can’t wait,” she replied. He smiled softly, reaching up to stroke his thumb over her cheek. Her head leapt into her throat, the gesture was just so unbearably sweet.

“Okay. Let’s go.” He looked away, face suddenly apprehensive. “Do you mind if we make a stop along the way? It won’t take long.” She nodded, curious. He swept his hands down, intertwining their fingers as the shadows began to shift and pull them away.

Like the first time he winnowed them, the darkness enveloped completely. Unlike last time, however, she could sense the movement of the shadows pulling them to their destination. Discern how they worked in tandem to carry them from one place to the next. Cerys wondered if when she perfected winnowing it would take the form Azriel’s did.

Moments later, they arrived in a sunlit patch of forest. The trees were tall, tipped with snow and shifting in the cool breeze. She looked around, noting a lake with the clearest water she’d ever seen. A small cabin stood on its banks with a dock running into the water. She turned to Azriel.

“Did we stop here on our way to Velaris from the island? I think I remember it.” He nodded, a smile pulling his lips up. She took a step towards the cabin, curious. “Where are we?” His silence prompted her to turn back towards him.

Azriel’s face was serious, contemplative. There was a certain softness around his eyes as he gazed at her. He cleared his throat, looking down. “Ah… this is my home. Rather, it was my mother’s home, years ago. Mine now.” Her heart swelled. She was so honoured he brought her here.

“Really?” She smiled, light and happy. “Thank you so much for bringing me.” He squeezed her fingers, still intertwined with hers. He started to the house, matching his steps with hers. “What happened to your mother?” She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he frowned, eyes tightening in the corners.

“Let me show you around, then I’ll tell you.” She followed him as he unlocked the simple wooden door, pushing it open. The house was small but bright and tidy. She noticed a freestanding fireplace, large windows overlooking the lake, several squashy sofas and countless overstuffed bookcases. Smiling, she walked around, investigating. The whole house smelled like a concentrated version of him. Clean, slightly spicy, with a deep undertone that reminded her of the mountains at night.

He stood by the door, watching her reaction closely. She smiled in his direction, “I love it.” He loosened a breath, moving closer. “I’m glad. This place is… important to me.” She continued looking around, running her fingers on the wood countertops in the kitchen. “What’s through there?” She pointed towards a set of doors in the back of the cabin.

Azriel walked over, opening both doors for her perusal. A bedroom lay in one, she could see the edge of a large, four postered bed frame through the doorway. She moved to the other, peeking her head in and biting back a gasp. It was a bathroom, but that wasn’t what took her breath away.

Standing in the corner was a large, sunken bathtub. Big enough to fit two with wings, she thought. It was positioned next to a window, overlooking the mountain range on the far side of the lake. “Wow. _This_ is my favourite room in the house.” He chuckled, sliding in behind her to press a kiss on the side of her neck. “I had a feeling you’d appreciate a good bathtub,” he murmured against her skin.

She sighed, arching her neck beneath his mouth. His hands came up to grip her hips firmly, lips continuing to move along her neck. She laid her head against his shoulder, arching her back into him. He groaned, fingers tucking under the hem of her shirt to rub circles into the skin at her hips. She turned her head, pressing her lips against his ear.

“Want to show me the bedroom?” She said suggestively, pushing her ass back into the hardness behind her. He let out a breath, fingers tightening on her hips. “ _Cauldron,_ yes. Desperately.” He sighed, turning her around to face him. “Unfortunately though, we need to get to the island home very soon. And I do want to tell you about my mother before we leave.”

She nodded, reaching up to kiss the side of his mouth reverently. “Okay. Although, I do think your plan is to tease me to death.” He chuckled, putting his mouth close to her ear and saying in a low, rough voice, “That’s part of it, yes.” He pulled her through the house to the chairs sitting outside on the deck, sitting her on his lap.

“I have to warn you, this isn’t a happy story. But it’s something you need to know.” She shifted on his lap, meeting his solemn gaze. “If it has to do with you, I want to know.” He nodded, taking a deep breath before launching into his story.

_____________________________________________________________

As many times as Azriel shared parts of his story with people, it never got any easier. Without pausing, he told Cerys about his upbringing, keeping his eyes down. He knew what he’d see if he looked into her face. Pity, mostly. He hated being pitied.

He told her of his Illyrian lord father who wanted nothing to do with a bastard born son. His cruel stepmother, locking him in a cell with barely an hour of sunlight and fresh air a day. He spoke of the pang of loneliness, a pain that never fully left him. He told her of his mother, her love for him and powerlessness to do anything to change his situation. Hardest of all, he told her of his hands, the product of oil and fire. Her fingers stroked over his hands as he talked, soothing and sure.

Drawing his eyes up to hers as he moved on to his time at the war camps, he was momentarily stunned by the look on her face. There was pity there, yes, but most clearly was the look of undiluted care. His heart clenched in his chest, she genuinely cared for him. His throat felt thick as he struggled to swallow.

“At the camps, that’s where I met your mother.” He smiled softly, remembering. “She knew my mother, and took me in like her own son, raising me in those brutal camps with Cassian and Rhys.” Cerys nodded, “I remember her saying of two boys she had taken in. She didn’t speak of you often, she didn’t want father to know of her kindness, I think. But I remember her speaking of you both fondly.” His lips tugged up, pressing his face against her curls. It felt good to tell her, to reveal this fundamental part of himself.

He felt the bond between them stronger than ever, pulling her towards him. He pushed his face closer into her hair, feeling the threads that wove them together. Azriel knew he cared about her, deeply. Despite only really knowing her less than a month. His feelings felt more complex for her than they ever did for Mor. With Cerys, it was as easy as breathing. He didn’t feel like he was pushing himself to be more extroverted, to hide and mould bits of his personality to better suit her. They fit together.

Moving her around on his lap until she was facing him, legs on either side of his hips, he was startled to find tears dripping down her face and off her freckled nose. “Hey…” he murmured, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “What’s the matter?”

She leaned forward, brushing her nose against his. “No one should be treated like you were, especially a child.” Pulling back, she brought her hands up to cup his face. “I hope you don’t think you deserved how you were treated,” she shook her head, eyes boring into his. “Your father, stepmother, all of them. _They_ were the ones at fault, what they did was despicable. Unforgivable.” Her breath fanned over his face, fingers sliding up into his hair. “You’re worthy of all the love in the world, Azriel.”

He brought his mouth to hers, grateful. She immediately pressed closer, burying her hands in his hair, tugging slightly. A switch went off inside him, suddenly he couldn’t get her close enough, fast enough. His hands slid up her thighs to her hips, fingers tucking under her top to touch the soft skin there once again. She moaned into his mouth, grinding down onto him. Both their breathing was speeding up as their mouths continued to devour each other.

His hands moved up under her top, stroking her ribs. He gently slid the tips of his fingers up the indent of her spine, feeling her back arch under his touch. Tucking under her breast band, he began moving his hands around, keen to feel her breasts bare under his palms.

She was shaking slightly, nibbling on his ear. Her hands were still buried in his hair, tilting his head back forcefully so she could press kisses down his neck. The tip of her tongue ran along his collarbone and he shuttered, feeling himself grow hard and insistent under her.

Just as he was stroking the underside of her breasts with his thumbs, preparing to slide his hands up fully, he felt a knock against his mental shields, loud and insistent. Rhysand, no doubt.

Groaning with exasperation, he removed his hands, leaning his head back to close his eyes, letting Rhys in. The bastard.

 _“Where are you two? Nuala and Cerridwen have lunch laid out and we are all waiting. For the love of all that is holy_ please _bring my sister back looking relatively decent.”_ Azriel sighed mentally, replying that they’d be back shortly.

Pulling himself back to the present, Cerys was sitting upright on him, watching his face. “Rhys?” She questioned. “Yes. Your brother has great timing, as always.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m going to need you to get off my lap if I don’t want to scandalise everyone waiting for us.”

She chuckled, scooting back slightly to look down at him. He wasn’t wearing his usual leathers, opting for less structured black trousers instead. Unfortunately, it meant you could see clearly just how aroused he was. She studied him, eyebrow raised. Her eyes flicked up to his, gaze smouldering. “I knew it.”

He barked a laugh, pushing them both up to standing. “Knew what?” She waggled her brows suggestively, reaching a hand to gently slide down the outside of one wing. His eyes rolled back into his head, fighting a groan. _“Cerys…_ please.” She laughed wickedly. “I knew your wingspan wasn’t the only thing impressive about you.”

Despite himself, he felt his cheeks flush. “You really have a way with words, don’t you?” She smiled at him mischievously, rising up on her toes to brush her lips against his ear. “You have no idea.”

He huffed a breath, this wasn’t helping at all with his current situation down below. “Enough out of you.” He rolled his eyes to the sky, thinking of Amren knocking back a pint of blood. Something repulsive enough to slow his heart rate.

“Right,” he held out his hands to Cerys. “Let’s get going.”


	13. Thirteen

Despite herself, Cerys felt a wave of nervousness at the prospect of seeing her favourite childhood home again. Glancing over at Azriel as they walked through the copse of trees they winnowed to, she was grateful he was here with her and she was looking forward to seeing the house through his eyes.

Her heart still felt sore, processing the memories he had shared with her. He had been through so much, far more than any one person should ever have to go through. Yet here he was, stopping them before they fully stepped into the clearing to make sure she was ok, running his fingers through her hair and touching her face. Selfless, as always.

“Are you okay with this?” His eyes were solemn. She knew he could relate to the feeling of confronting childhood memories. “Yes, although I am nervous.” Her eyes flickered around her, the smell of the trees here was so much warmer than on the mainland. Slightly sweeter, like it had been left in the sun. She breathed deeply, letting it fill her lungs.

Steeling herself, she squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” His lips tugged up slightly. “Anywhere you need me, I’ll be there.” She felt the slightest of touches on her mental shields, like a shadow rolling up the side. Soft and sinuous. She looked up at Azriel in surprise.

“You’re a Daemati?” She asked, brows raised.

“Not exactly… not with everyone. I find that with people with similar gifts I can use my shadowsinging abilities like a Daemati does, to a point.” His gaze trailed off, considering. “I can’t fully enter your mind, I wouldn’t be able to plant ideas or influence anything, like Rhys or other powerful Daemati’s can. But I am able to speak into it, if you allow me in.” She opened up for him, inviting him past the walls she formed out of scuffed, rugged wood.

 _“What do you think? Now we can talk privately, whenever we’d like.”_ His tone was bright and mischievous, she picked up his meaning immediately. _“Oh? Anything we’d like?”_ He chuckled, pulling his shadows back out. Shaking his head at her, he gestured over his shoulder towards the house.

“Shall we?” Cerys nodded, her excitement at seeing her favourite home winning out over the trepidation. Joining hands, they walked towards the house.

She felt Azriel’s intake of breath as the house came into view. She laughed quietly, it was certainly unique looking.

The exterior was made entirely of wooden shingles, matching the colour of the trees perfectly, giving the effect that it had grown out of the forest itself. It was sprawling, tall in some places and squat in others. There were several turrets poking up out of the trees, large windows lining the very tops. 

Azriel looked down at her, “it’s very whimsical, I can see why you like it.” She laughed, squeezing his hand. “As a child, I used to get lost for hours running between the turrets, or buried in the library. Rhys used to get so exasperated, you could never find me whenever we were here. There’s too much to explore.” She felt a shadow wrap around her as she talked, warm and thick as a blanket.

The front door opened and Feyre ran out, wrapping Cerys in a hug and smiling warmly at Azriel. “Glad you two could finally make it!” She squeezed Cerys’ arm as they walked in, eyebrow raised questioningly. She felt her cheeks heat, widening her eyes at Feyre and giggling. Cerys was glad her and her brother’s mate were becoming fast friends. She hoped, in time, Feyre would become like a sister to her. She had no doubt she would.

Entering the house, Cerys took in the familiar sight. The house hasn’t changed a bit, it was still bright and airy, with large Illyrian tapestries lining the walls. They were her mother’s, passed down from her side of the family, made whenever a female married. She ran her fingers over her favourite, her great grandmother’s.

She had never known her, but the tapestry told the story of her life. Cerys paused, gazing up at it, tracing its familiar shapes and colours. In the traditional Illyrian style, there weren’t clear pictures of specific people or events. Rather, the colours and twisting shapes were chosen by the bride’s mother to best represent the female getting married.

Her great-grandmother’s was half dark, half light. One half was an explosion of colour, the pinks and purples of dawn mixing with deep blues and greens of an angry sea. The other half was softer, deep indigos swirling with velvet black. Cerys always felt like she saw a bit of herself in the tapestry, and had spent many hours standing in front of it.

She touched a curl of bright, glowing blue, feeling a rush of sadness. When she married, _if_ she married, she would have no one to make her tapestry. The tradition may very well die out with her mother’s beautiful piece hanging by the door.

Azriel hung back, moving to her side. He followed her gaze to the tapestry, studying its colours, tracing a pale violet streak with his finger. “Illyrian marriage blankets?” Cerys nodded, throat thick. He paused, content to wait for her to speak.

She cleared her throat, “This one was my great-grandmother’s. It’s my favourite.” She gestured down the hall where countless tapestries hung neatly. “My mother brought her collection here years ago, the oldest one is nearly falling apart. Generations of history.”

Sensing her sadness, Azriel skated his fingers up and down her spine, light as a feather. She felt his shadows wrap around her like a blanket, a gesture she was fast coming to love.

“Will you have one?” His voice was low in her ear. She swallowed thickly, shaking her head. “I don’t see how. Usually the bride’s mother makes it. Or the closest female relative. With my mother being gone… there’s no one else,” she trailed off, surprised to find her eyes becoming damp. She didn’t think it would hit her so hard, being here.

Azriel gathered her in his arms, wings wrapping around them both. His lips pressed against the top of her head comfortingly. “I’m sorry, Cerys. I know it’s not easy being here.” She nodded, grateful for his care.

Basking in each other’s arms, they admired her grandmother’s tapestry together. Minutes past in companionable silence before Azriel’s voice rumbled through her. “I can see why this one is your favourite. It reminds me of you.” Her chest tightened, “how so?”

“Well,” he paused, reaching out a finger to trace over some of the more vibrant colours. “I can see bits of Velaris in this part, colours like you see at the Rainbow.” His fingers shifted to point towards a section of swirling greys and blues, “this looks like the sea at the island I found you at. Wild and untamed.” She smiled, nestling further into his arms.

“And over here,” he gestured to the velvety blacks and violets, “this looks like your shadows.” Skating his finger over where the black met the brighter shades. “It’s also is in the shape of a wing. But see? It’s not quite distinct. The wing comes and goes amongst the colours.” She gasped quietly, in all her years of studying it she never noticed that.

Turning in his arms to meet his eyes, she smiled. “It does. I had never noticed that, you know.” He leaned down, kissing her softly. She leaned into him, pulling him closer. After a moment, he pulled away, brushing her nose with his. “We should go see the others.”

Cerys nodded, reluctantly moving out of his arms. Together they left the hall of tapestries and made their way towards the cacophony of voices they could hear down the hallway.

_____________________________________________________________

Azriel watched Cerys closely as they walked. She still seemed sad after telling him about the tapestries. He knew how she felt, that feeling of being unmoored. Family history was important to Illyrian’s, a fact he knew all too well as a bastard. The pain of having her whole family, save Rhys, swept out from under her would never fully ease.

He tucked her under her arm as they moved into the room, what everyone else thought be damned. She seemed grateful for the support, leaning into him and tucking her arm around his waist. Azriel was generally uncomfortable with outward displays of affection, but he found he did not mind this at all.

The group was seated around various tables and on sofas when the entered. The room was large, with a high, peaked wooden ceiling and large windows overlooking the sea. He hadn’t realised how close they were to the ocean. It was an island, he reminded himself, the ocean would never be far off.

Cerys smiled immediately, giving his waist a firm squeeze before moving away towards the platters of foods laid out around the room. Azriel spotted plates of thinly sliced meats, bowls of fruit and wedges of cheese. He chuckled, watching Cerys make a crude sandwich out of two hunks of cheese and some meat.

He followed suit, gathering up a plate before sitting down next to her at a table with Cassian and Nesta. Cassian winked at him, leaning forward to grab a piece of bread of Cerys’ plate. Quicker than he could follow, she slapped his hand away, moving her plate out of his range. To Azriel’s surprise, Nesta let out a snort of laughter.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Cassian,” Nesta said to her mate, smiling slightly at Cerys. Azriel was relieved to see she was in a good mood. Although she had mellowed considerably in the last year she could still be, well, Nesta.

Cerys ducked her chin in Nesta’s direction. “I’m Cerys, I’m not sure if we’ve officially met.” Nesta nodded in return, looking quickly between her and Azriel with a knowing look on her face. Azriel kicked her lightly in the shin, they had developed a solid friendship over the last year and he could tell when she was about to tease him. Nesta huffed a breath, turning to Cerys to ask her some questions about herself.

While they chatted, Cassian nudged Azriel, pointing with his chin to the sea out the window. “You ready for tonight?” Azriel groaned, prompting Cerys to looks over.

“What’s tonight?” Azriel sat back, crossing his arms, gesturing at Cassian to explain. He leaned forward excitedly. “We have a bit of a Solstice tradition, Rhys, Az and myself.” He winked at Azriel. “Az is a bit disappointed at the change of venue, he won’t be able to cheat as usual, you see.”

“I do _not_ cheat, Cassian. I win by skill alone.” Beside him, Cerys laughs brightly. “What’s the tradition?” Cassian continued, “Usually we have a snowball fight at the cabin, but as you can see, there’s no snow here.” Cerys continued to laugh. “A snowball fight? How old are you, again?”

Cassian rolled his eyes dramatically. “Age is just a number, my dear. Anyways, this year we’re going to be doing a bit of swimming.” Azriel couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him at that. Gods sake, swimming.

Pointing at the sea, Cassian explained, “We’re having a race to see who can swim to the hot springs on the other side of the island.” Cerys nudged him in the ribs at that. “Lucky for you, Az,” she turned her attention back towards Cassian, “he _loves_ hot springs.”

Cassian laughed uproariously, reaching across to punch his shoulder. “Don’t be getting any ideas, brother. I don’t think Nesta would be pleased.” He swung his arm over his mate, “Would you, sweetheart?” She swiftly shoved him off, getting to her feet. “Come on, Cerys. I heard there’s a library and I’d love to see it.” Cerys got to her feet, squeezing Azriel’s shoulder affectionately before trailing after Nesta.

Leaning back in his seat and rubbing his belly, Cassian smirked at Azriel. “Feeling a bit lovesick, Az?” Azriel rolled his eyes, sealing his lips shut. “Silence might be your closest friend tonight, I don’t think Rhysie would enjoy hearing the sordid details of you and his sister.” Cassian was clearly enjoying this far too much.

The next few hours passed quickly. Azriel felt more comfortable around everyone than he had in months, to his relief. Luckily, Mor seemed as keen to avoid speaking to him as he was to her. Small mercies.

Before he knew it, he was standing freezing on a cliff, as naked as the day he was born. Rhys stood next to him, shivering.

“Remind me why we’re doing this again,” Rhys grumbled, tucking his wings tight to his body. Cassian seemed the only one impervious to the cold, standing in front of them with his wings flared and hands on his hips. “It’s tradition.”

Rhys met Azriel’s gaze, rolling his eyes. The sea did not look pleasant tonight, white-tipped waves crashed below them, coating them in a light spray.

“Right, brothers, you know the rules. No magic, no mind control, no shadows.” He pointed at Rhys and Azriel in turn, voice stern. Azriel nodded, keen to get in the water and get this over with. Cassian moved to stand next to him, counting them down.

The water was frigid, momentarily taking his breath away as he landed, struggling to make his arms and legs move in some semblance of a swimming stroke. Noting Rhys and Cassian’s dark heads popping up next to him, he began swimming swiftly around the corner of the island.

Both Rhys and Cassian were strong swimmers, but Azriel was lighter and faster than both of them, quickly pulling ahead in their race.

Breathing hard, he made it to the cave entrance first. Feeling a burst of elation, he secretly loved winning, he swam into the cave and climbed out, making his way into the nearest steaming pool. Settling into the heavenly warm water, he arranged himself in a relaxed position to await Rhys and Cassian.

They arrived moments later, out of breath and fuming that he had won. Azriel couldn’t help the smug smile that crept over his face as they made their way into the hot water, cursing at the change in temperature.

“Not _again,”_ Cassian grumbled, shifting his wings to fold back into the water. “Rhys, we need to make sure next year’s competition is something Azriel is horrible at.” His eyes rolled to the cave above, muttering to himself, “Reciting poetry, maybe… Perhaps swing dancing.” Azriel snorted, keeping the fact he is an excellent dancer wisely to himself.

Cassian suddenly sat up, his face lit up with an expression Azriel did not like one bit. “Az… as punishment for winning, Rhys would like to know what your intentions are with his sister.” Rhys choked, eyes flying to Cassian’s. “ _What?_ I did not say that!” His face became contemplative, “Although, I am curious about the answer.”

Azriel sighed, sliding down to his ears in the water. “Why should I be punished for winning?” Cassian shrugged, looking nonplussed. “Because it’s two against one and we say so.”

Feeling entirely ganged up on, he decided to relent. He truly didn’t have any qualms talking about Cerys, but would swiftly put an end to the jeering if Cassian asked any vulgar questions. Sitting up, he gathered his thoughts.

“I care about her very much, I’m enjoying getting to know her.” Cassian and Rhys looked at him silently, clearly waiting for more details. He stifled a groan, not in the mood for an interrogation.

“There’s something between us I haven’t felt before. She… understands me, my life.” He paused, not wanting to wax lyrical but not wanting to sound too blasé either. “I can see a future with her, more so than I’ve felt with anyone else.” He sighed, tilting his head back. “More than I ever saw with Mor.”

He looked back at them just as Cassian and Rhys were exchanging a loaded glance, both their faces solemn. Rhys gave a slight nod and Cass turned back to meet Azriel’s gaze, looking more serious than he’d seen him in a long time.

“Az… brother,” He started, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Do you think Cerys is your mate?”

Azriel sucked in a breath, heart suddenly pounding. His mind was racing, replaying their interactions and his emotions against the backdrop of a mating bond. “I…. I don’t know.” He swallowed, feeling panicked. “How do you know?”

Cassian and Rhys once again exchanged a significant look, Rhys taking the lead this time. “It hits you, when it snaps into place. I can’t explain it, you just know in that moment that she’s your mate and you would do anything to her. That she is _yours_ as intrinsically as you are hers.” Cassian nodded emphatically.

Rhys stroked his hand under his chin, thinking. “It doesn’t necessarily snap into place when you first meet, although it does for many. For both Cassian and I, we had an inclination but it took a life threatening moment to fully snap it in.” Azriel nodded slowly, mind still spinning out of control.

He hadn’t allowed himself to consider that Cerys might be his mate. Hadn’t permitted that kernel of hope to be planted. Azriel had witnessed many mating bonds in his years of life, the better examples being Rhys and Cassian. He had seen them destroy lives, seen males turn volatile and aggressive if anyone so much as _looked_ at their mate. He knew of Rhys and Cerys’ parents, how their mating bond kept them bound in a loveless union.

On the other hand, he had seen mating bonds deepen and strengthen love and connection that was already there. He saw it in Rhys and Feyre, how they were so perfect for each other, so in love. The same with Cassian and Nesta, and he could tell Lucien and Elain were headed in that direction.

Truth be told, he desperately wanted to find his mate, always had. The thought of someone being out there who would be perfect for him, someone he could love and care for and stand beside for the rest of his life. The thought thrilled him. The idea that it could be Cerys set him absolutely alight.

He sighed deeply, meeting Rhys’ gaze. “Truthfully, I don’t know if she is. There is a bond there between us, I feel us tied together, somehow.” He looked away, thinking hard. “If she is, I hope I know soon.”

Rhys moved forward, clapping him on the shoulder. “Cerys would be lucky to have you as her mate, if that’s what it is.” Azriel met his earnest gaze, throat feeling thick. “I would be the lucky one to have _her.”_ Rhys smiled softly, eyes looking shiny. “Keep getting to know her, Az. If she is your mate, you’ll know without a shadow of a doubt. I promise.”

Azriel nodded, sinking back down in the water. He had much to consider, and he missed Cerys, even if had been mere hours. He breathed deeply, lost in thought, luxuriating in the hot water.

He was pulled out of his mind roughly by a shout of laughter and the sight of Cassian directing a large wave of water straight at his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love the fluff!! More spice coming in upcoming chapters, don't worry... ;) I'm in a writing mood tonight so there *may* be another chapter up later on, we'll see how I get on!


	14. Fourteen

Two chapters in one day- who is she?? Fair warning, this is pretty much all smut

_____________________________________________________________

It was getting late, Cerys thought to herself, craning in her seat to peer out the window to the dark sea below. Azriel and the boys had been gone a good few hours and she was starting to feel worried, despite knowing they were seasoned warriors who could more than handle a little sea swim.

Feyre touched her elbow gently, making her jump in her sea. “Sorry! Lost in thought, I guess…” She felt her cheeks heat, meeting Feyre’s gaze. “They’ll be back soon, they just left the hot springs,” Feyre said, clearly discerning where Cerys’ thoughts lie.

She sighed gratefully, “is it that obvious?” Feyre chuckled, shaking her head. “Not really, no. I was thinking the same thing before Rhys checked in just then.” Her eyes moved to the sea raging outside. “I don’t envy them one bit.”

They were all seated at a long table, trying some of the wine collection and playing cards. Cerys knew it was ridiculous to miss him after such a short time but here she was, pining away. She turned back to Feyre. “When did you know Rhys was your mate?”

Feyre’s eyes widened, clearly surprised at Cerys’ line of questioning. “That is a difficult question. I was told by an… Ah, reputable source, let’s say, that he was before I actually felt the bond snap into place.” She shuffled the cards in front of her, pensive. “I was furious, actually, that he knew and didn’t tell me. But, after I had finished raging at him, I knew that I loved him and there was no one else for me but Rhys.” She smiled softly. “The bond didn’t actually click into place for me in the traditional sense until we were…” she coughed, looking embarrassed. “Well, until we were intimate.”

Cerys crinkled her nose, giggling. “Really? I thought it was always an instant thing, the first time you saw each other.” Feyre shook her head, resting her chin in her palm. “Not at all. Not for Rhys, or Cassian and Nesta. In fact, I think the only person I know who it clicked immediately for was Lucien. Elain didn’t even know instantly.”

Her eyebrows raised, “So it can happen at different times for each person?” Feyre nodded, “I believe so, yes. Usually it takes a big event to snap the bond into place. A life threatening incident, for example. Or other activities.” She raised a brow suggestively.

Feyre’s gaze turned suspicious, abandoning the cards and turning to face Cerys fully. “Why are you asking?” Cerys felt a blush spread up her neck, looking down in an attempt to shield her expression. “No reason.” Feyre hummed, clearly not buying it.

“Of course… I’ll drop it if you’d rather not talk about it, but I will say this.” She glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, lowering her voice. “If he is your mate, you’ll know. It might not be now or even in the next few weeks, but the longer you spend together it’ll become clear whether the bond is there or it’s not.” Cerys nodded, grateful Feyre answered her unspoken question without having to ask.

She was saved from replying by the site of Rhys, Cassian and Azriel walking in, all looking freshly bathed. Feyre shot her a smile before getting up to greet her mate, freeing up the seat next to her. Azriel slid in a moment later. Cerys looked him over appreciatively, his hair was still damp from the bath and he was wearing an impossibly soft looking black jumper.

Once he had settled in his seat, she immediately smoothed her hand up his arm and over his shoulder. “My, this is soft,” she said quietly, unable to keep from touching him. He chuckled stretching his arm behind her and pulling at a curl. He tucked his face close to hers for a moment, whispering in her ear.

“I missed you.” She touched her nose briefly to his before he pulled back. He smelled amazing, concentrated after his bath. Sliding his opposite hand up her leg, he looked down, smiling. “I think this is my favourite outfit of yours.

She was once again wearing a snug black dress, long sleeved and hitting at mid thigh. This time she had paired it with finely knit grey cashmere socks, reaching up her legs to nearly touch the hem of her dress. He wrapped his hand around the exposed bit of thigh, squeezing gently.

Cerys felt a gently tap on her mental shields, recognising Azriel’s shadows immediately. She felt his quiet voice in her mind. _“Did you wear this on purpose to tease me?”_ She crossed her legs demurely in response, sliding his hand further up her thigh as she moved. He went completely still beside her, sucking in a breath.

His thumb began to trace slow circles against the skin on the inside of her thighs, moving upwards. She had all but forgotten there was other people in the room, her whole concentration following the movement of his fingers. Azriel moved slowly, tucking his pointer finger under the top of her sock, sliding it slightly down her leg. His fingers wrapped further around so his whole hand was pressed against her. Cerys was struggling to breathe properly, focused entirely on the sensation of his hand on her thigh.

Azriel’s hand drew away suddenly, his other arm moving off her shoulders. She turned to him, disappointed. She found his face completely devoid of emotion, but she had learned to read him enough to recognise he was trying very hard to keep his face empty. His shadows moved into her mind once again.

_“Uncross your legs and stay still.”_

Her eyes darted around the table, mercifully, no one was looking their way. Danuta and Mor were involved in a rigorous game of cards at the end of the table, Cassian, Nesta, Rhys and Feyre chatting across from her. Elain and Lucien were nowhere to be seen, luckily, there was no one on their side of the table. Steading herself, she obeyed his request, shifting in her seat to uncross her legs, spreading them slightly. She could already feel how wet she was, and all he had done was barely touch her leg.

She felt the slide of his shadows wrap around each thigh, gently spreading them further apart and holding them still. She couldn’t push them closer together or any wider apart. She held her breath in anticipation, Azriel showed no signs of rushing, moving to take a slow sip of his wine, straightening his hair. She resisted sighing to hurry him along, remaining still in her seat. Waiting.

He shifted, meeting her eyes briefly. His hand closest to her moved to brush against her leg, tracing to where the hem of her dress had ridden up, light as a feather. She shivered, feeling herself grow wetter with anticipation. His fingers slowly moved to rub circles against her inner thigh, firmer than before. He suddenly squeezed roughly, her breath caught in her throat loudly with his movements.

 _“Cerys…_ ” His voice in her head was steady. In control. _“I’m going to need you to pretend like nothing is happening. Can you do that?”_

She nodded her head slightly in his direction, leaning forward in her seat, adopting a nonchalant look. At this point, she would do anything to keep his hand on her. His fingers continued stroking her leg, moving steadily upwards. She stayed perfectly still, mouth clamped shut.

_“Good girl.”_

She felt his fingers move closer to the apex of her thighs, sliding against her skin purposefully. She fought her breathing to remain calm, forced her gaze to remain neutral. Lifting her glass, she took a shaky sip just as his fingers brushed directly across her.

Cerys badly wanted to clamp her thighs around his hand, hold him to her, but his shadows kept her legs firmly apart, unable to move an inch. Slowly, painfully slowly, his fingers began to rub expertly against her clit. She couldn’t help but press her forehead into her palm, holding her breath. His fingers stilled, pressing against her with delicious pressure.

 _“Do you want me to touch you, Cerys?”_ Azriel’s voice was still firm but she could hear a slight shake to it, he was affected by this too. Cerys risked a glance at him. His face remained in a cool mask but his pupils were blown wide, lips slightly parted.

Feeling bold, Cerys leaned towards him, pressing her lips against his ear. As quietly as she could, she whispered, “Touch me. Please.”

He took a sharp inhale, adjusting in his seat. She felt his fingers move aside her underwear, finally touching her skin. His breathing quickened beside her, feeling how wet she was. Cerys fought a moan, he felt _so good_ against her, fingers moving in slow strokes up and down. _“You’re so wet, is this all for me?”_ His flingers continued to slide up and down, avoiding where she wanted him most.

Cerys could’ve cried by how slowly he was moving, how _desperately_ she needed his fingers on her clit. Her thighs started to shake, straining against his shadows. For the first time, she used the channel he had opened between them to speak into his mind back. _“Azriel, please. I can’t take it._ ” Even her subconscious voice was unsteady, begging.

He chuckled quietly beside her, not changing his speed. She was losing her mind with how desperately she needed to feel his touch on her. Just when she felt close to breaking, his thumb pressed directly onto her clit. She jumped, roughly pulling against her bonds. His fingers stilled immediately.

 _“What did I say about staying still?”_ She eased out a breath, meeting his eyes with desperation. After a quick check to make sure no one was watching, she settled deeper into her seat, waiting for him to continue.

He pressed against her firmly, ratcheting up the tension in her body at an alarming speed. As his thumb rubbed slow, maddening circles against her clit, two fingers eased down to press against her entrance. He slowly pushed in, leaning over to meet her eyes. She couldn’t help the slight gasp she allowed herself as his fingers bottomed out, curling slightly inside her. She desperately wanted to moan, to tell him just how he was making her feel.

Sensing her thoughts, he smirked, pulling his fingers out before roughly pushing back in. He continued tormenting her, fingers curling and rubbing deep inside, eyes flicking down to watch his hand move between her trapped thighs. She was plummeting, rapidly approaching an edge she was scared to fall off of.

Abruptly, he paused, fingers stilling within her. She clenched around him, desperate to feel his hand move again. He met her eyes once more. _“Do you want to finish right at this table, Cerys? Or would you rather go someplace more private?”_

She bit her lip, considering. As good as she felt right now, she knew she wanted to be alone the first time he made her come. _“Someplace private,”_ she whispered into his mind. He nodded slightly, withdrawing his fingers. She nearly groaned at the loss, thighs sticky with her moisture. His shadows released her and she immediately clenched her thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction.

He wrapped his hand back around her leg, letting his shadows roll over them and winnow them away from the table. They arrived moments later in his rooms, alone at last.

_____________________________________________________________

Azriel forced himself to slow down once they reached his room. He was desperate to have her, dying to be inside her and watch her come apart around him. That wasn’t his plan, he reminded himself. He didn’t want their first time to be in a house with everyone else, despite how spacious it might be.

His shadows dissipated around them as she launched herself on him, wrapping her legs around his hips and meeting his mouth in a rough kiss. Their tongues immediately met and their kisses grew sloppy and desperate as Azriel walked them towards the bed. He gently laid Cerys down on top, stepping back to look her over.

She was propped up on her elbows, skirt hem riding dangerously high up her thighs. Her curls were a glorious mess around her, complimenting her flushed cheeks and dark eyes. Azriel’s gaze travelled downwards, noting her socks endearingly sliding down her legs. He reached out, grasping their tops and rolling them off her legs, revealing miles of creamy skin.

Cerys let her knees slowly part, gaze intent on his. “Are you going to finish what you started?” Her voice was low, rough with lust. Azriel chuckled, taking a step forward.

Moving purposefully, he pushed the hem of her dress up around her waist, sliding his fingers down to press against her again. She squirmed, chest rapidly moving up and down. Slipping his fingers underneath her underpants, he loosened a breath, finding her even wetter than before.

Keeping his fingers moving in her, slowly enough to torment, he leaned forward to press his mouth against her ear. “I’m going to taste you now.” He told her quietly, fighting hard to keep his voice even and controlled.

In one fluid motion, he lay beside her on the bed, rolling her over his body. Grabbing her hips, he guided her to straddle his face, breathing her in. “Hold onto the headboard,” he instructed, waiting for her to comply. She did so quickly, the wood groaning under her tight grasp.

He sent his shadows up to hold her palms against the wood, keeping them in place. Sliding his hands up her legs, he moved her underpants aside to stroke against her, blowing softly and making her flinch. “Azriel….” She moaned, trying to force herself down onto his face. He wrapped one hand around to squeeze her ass. “If you move, I’ll stop.” She keened above him.

Slowly, he lowered her down to his mouth, moaning at her taste. She tasted sweeter than he could’ve imagined, he wanted more. He moved his tongue up and down purposefully, rubbing against her clit and making her thighs clamp around his head.

As much as he wanted to tease her, to make her beg for him to finally let her come, he wanted her first orgasm with him to be on her terms. He had tormented her enough in the other room, she was so close to finishing before he had even got started.

He was unrelenting, slipping his fingers back inside her to curl and rub while his tongue worked above. Before long, she was shattering above him, coming on his tongue. Garbled words and his name falling out of her mouth above him, hands gripping the wood with ferocity. Her body went slack as he released her hands, guiding her off his face to curl into his chest. They were both breathing hard.

She sighed, pressing her head into his neck. “You are far, _far_ too good at that.” He chuckled darkly, moving to brush a wayward curl off her forehead. “My dear, that was only the beginning.”

She whined softly against his ear, tilting her head back to look into his face. Her cheeks were flushed, face sticky with exertion. Her hand began moving purposefully down his body. Before it could get far, her stopped it in its place, trapping it against his stomach.

“Tonight was about you. We have all the time in the world.” She pouted slightly, eyes falling to the prominent bulge in his trousers. “But… aren’t you uncomfortable?” He snorted, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine. Now, sleep.” He stroked her hair, moving to push his shoes off and wrap the blankets around him.

She sighed, body fully relaxed against him. Azriel lay there feeling her heart beat against him, trailing his hands through her curls, feeling as if he had the whole world currently between his arms.


	15. Fifteen

Hours later, Cerys woke with a start. The room was dark, bathed only in a shaft of moonlight cutting across the bed. The evening’s activities came back to her as she glanced around the room, her face blushing at the memory.

Next to her, with one arm still thrown over her hips, Azriel was sleeping peacefully. Propping herself up on her elbow, she examined his sleeping face. It was more relaxed then she’d ever seen it, eyelashes flickering on his cheeks, mouth slightly parted. She wondered what he was dreaming about.

Reaching a hand out, she carded her fingers through his fringe, careful not to wake him. Even after he had surpassed her wildest expectations last night, she wanted more. Feeling her blood begin to heat, she remembered how he had nearly brought her to finish right at that table, holding her open with his shadows. Then, of course, in this very bed with his tongue. She licked her lips, looking him over.

He was lying on his side, wings strewn out behind him. Her eyes moved down to where the blanket was low on his hips, shirt riding up to show the edge of the v of muscle at his waist. Cerys had been with her fair share of males over the years, mostly hurried trysts to avoid anyone finding out. She had never had anyone like him, and they were barely getting started. 

Secretly, she had always wanted a male to take control like Azriel did in the bedroom. She loved how he seemed fond of using his shadows to hold her in place, controlling her movement. Cerys was _very_ interested to see how that side of him might show more they more involved they got.

Hesitantly, she reached out to run the tip of her nail along the skin showing by his hips. He moaned slightly, eyes remaining shut. Well, that just wouldn’t do. Cauldron knew he had left her reeling earlier that night and she was keen to repay the favour.

Shifting onto her knees, she ran her tongue over the skin her fingers had been tracing. Azriel moved beneath her, sleepily opening his eyes to look down at her.

“Cerys…What are you doing?” His voice was low and rough with sleep and _gods_ did she like it. She chuckled, pushing his shirt up to run the flat of her tongue up the centre of his stomach. He was more awake now, sitting partially up to watch her, eyes wide. “If you don’t know what’s going on, you’re in for a surprise.” He huffed a laugh, reaching down to tug at a curl.

“You don’t have to do this.” She moved her fingers along his waistband, pushing them under slightly. He had changed into soft grey trousers for sleeping and she could see he was seriously starting to enjoy her ministrations. Feeling bold, she ran her hand over him, feeling him grow hard under her. Nipping his skin slightly, she raised her brow. “I want to. Besides,” she hooked her fingers under his waistband and undershorts. “I am _very_ curious to see if I can take all of you in my mouth.”

He made a funny strangled noise, moving to scrape his fingers along her scalp. “If you can, I’ll be impressed.” He smirked slightly. She looked down as she began pulling his trousers down, freeing his erection. Her mouth went dry. _Fuck._

Azriel chuckled, fighting to keep the male arrogance off his face. “Don’t hurt yourself, love.” She sat back on her heels, looking him over. He was truly magnificent, and she was never one to back down from a challenge. He adjusted the pillows behind his head so he could watch her, face dark with desire.

She met his eyes, summoning the confidence. Crossing her arms in front of her, she rose up on her knees to pull her dress entirely over her head, pulling her breast band off with it. His eyes went wide, moving down her body greedily. Cerys thanked every god she knew that she had chosen the black scrap of lace for underwear this morning. He reached out a hand to cup her breast but she grabbed his wrist before he could make contact.

“No touching.” He raised an eyebrow, chuckling and moving his hand back down to rest behind his head. She knelt forward, pushing her hips up behind her. Cerys knew she was good at this, and was looking forward to making him beg, for once.

She ran her tongue up his length, pausing to swirl around the top. After a few moments of slowly working him, she pulled back slightly. Taking hold of him, she met his eyes and spit directly on him, using the moisture to work her hand up and down. He moaned, chest moving up and down quickly. _“Gods, Cerys…”_ He sounded completely out of breath.

Taking the tip of him into her mouth, she moved her both hands now, slowly. Meeting his gaze, she pushed him all the way into her mouth to nudge the back of her throat. He gasped, hips flinching to push himself in further. She took him as far as she could, letting him slip in and out of her mouth sloppily.

Azriel’s whole body was beginning to shake, hand reaching out to tug roughly on her hair. She moaned around him, loving the feeling of him pulling her hair. “I… I’m almost…” His eyes were locked on her, mouth completely open. He looked unhinged. Just as his abs began to spasm, she pulled back, lazily working him up and down with her hand, not letting him come.

He groaned, leaning back to press his hand against his face. She smirked, he wasn’t getting off that easy.

Moving down, she pressed her fingers firmly into the soft spot where his leg met his hip, taking him slowly back into her mouth. Her other hand moved up to squeeze tightly around the base. He moaned, soft words falling out of his mouth. She once again worked him to the peak with her hands and mouth, sucking and letting her teeth scrape slightly. Once again, she pulled back.

His eyes were desperate now, hands clenched in the sheets. She sat back slightly, meeting his eyes. “I want you to beg.” He blew out a breath, hips twitching under her. She touched him with feather lightness, swirling her tongue around his head.

“Beg, Azriel.”

His head tipped back, neck taunt. “ _Please._ Please, Cerys. Please.” She smiled slightly, loving the power, loving seeing him like this. Completely at her mercy.

She took him fully back into her mouth, hands and tongue working in tandem. His hand shot out to wrap in her hair, hips pushing his cock deeper into her mouth. She let him, opening wider and letting him fuck her mouth. With a shout, his entire body seized, spilling into her mouth. She continued, swallowing and let him ride out his high. Sitting back, she wiped her mouth and watched him twitch on the bed, eyes closed.

 _“Fuck,_ Cerys.” She giggled, unable to keep the smug smile off her face. He gathered himself, peeling his eyes open to look at her, satisfied smile on his face. “You’re incredible.” She flopped down beside him, running her fingers up and down his abs. “Seeing you like this, I can’t help but agree with you.” He huffed a laugh, turning to press his nose into her hair.

“I feel like thank you is the wrong thing to say but… thank you.” She giggled, nestling further into his side, ready to fall back into sleep. “Anytime.”

Sighing with contentment, he tucked his arm back around her and pulled the blankets up, wrapping them both up for the rest of the night.

_____________________________________________________________

The sunlight streamed through the window, waking Azriel up for the second time that night. He smiled immediately, pulling Cerys closer to him. He knew things would be unbelievable between them in the bedroom but he _really_ wasn’t expecting her to be so mind-blowing last night. He wasn’t the one usually doing the begging, but he’d beg for her every night if that was on the table.

Pressing his lips on her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids, she stirred with a sleepy laugh. “Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” she looked up at him coyly, eyes bright. “I wonder why.” He grinned, feeling lighter than he had in years.

“Yes, well, I won’t deny it.” She giggled at his response, leaning up to kiss him softly. They explored each other slowly and thoroughly for a few minutes. Azriel wished they could stay here all morning, in their warm bubble, but he was sure everyone was already up. Sighing, he pulled back.

“We should get up.” She nodded, pressing one last kiss to his lips before moving out of the bed. Seemingly unconcerned by her nakedness, she stretched both arms over her head, moving her hips from side to side. Azriel groaned, wanting her again.

“You’re unbelievable. So beautiful.” She lowered her arms, smile taking over her face. “Yeah? Well, thank you.” She turned, hunting around for her clothes. Eyes trained on her backside, Azriel endeavoured to get them fully alone very, _very_ soon. He couldn’t take much longer not knowing her completely.

She found her dress, pulling it over her head and past her hips. Shame. Azriel rolled from bed, straightening his trousers and making his way over to her. Cerys was in the process of rolling her socks back up her legs, one hand trying to tame her curls. She straightened up, moving towards the door.

“Here, let me walk you back to your room.” She nodded, opening the door. Azriel followed closely, pressing her against his bare chest as they moved into the hall. “I’m just down this way,” She wrapped her arm around him, pulling him along. The hallway bent and curved downwards towards a circular room with three doors.

She motioned upwards, the ceiling extended high above them, windows circling the walls at the top. “This is the base of one of the turrets,” she explained. Pausing outside one of the doors, he wrapped his hands around the sides of her neck, stroking softly. “I’ll go get changed and meet you back here?” She nodded, stretching up on her toes to kiss him.

Just as Cerys’ lips met his, the door next to them opened. Mor stepped out, gasping. Azriel pulled back, hands slipping from Cerys’ neck. He knew exactly how obvious it was what they had been up to. Azriel, shirtless, walking Cerys back to her room. Cerys, in last night’s clothes with her hair wild around her.

To his surprise, Cerys slid her palm around his bare back, pulling him close. “Good morning.” Her voice was light but he could feel how tense her body was next to his. Mor nodded slightly, eyes moving quickly between them.

She met his eyes for a brief second, hurt passing over them, before turning and hurrying down the hall away from them. As soon as she was out of sight, Cerys turned to face him. To his surprise, she looked angry.

“I’ll talk to her.” He raised his brows, opening his mouth to tell her that wasn’t necessary. Before he could speak, she held up a hand. “I need to, she’s my cousin and I don’t want any awkwardness. Besides,” she sighed, eyes moving to the direction Mor had headed. “I think this is more about me than you, right now.”

He nodded slowly, thinking. “You might be right.” Leaning forward, he gathered her in his arms. Her voice was muffled against his chest. “I’ll hurry and get changed and go speak to her. See you at lunch?” He murmured a response, holding her close. After a moment, she pulled back. Her face was serious.

“The last thing I want is tension between us all.” She blew out a breath, agitated. “You both mean a lot to me. I don’t want it to be weird.” He agreed wholeheartedly.

Smiling at him, she moved to her door. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you later.” He nodded, watching her slip into her room. Azriel genuinely didn’t know how she was going to smooth things over, but he trusted her judgement with Mor. He walked slowly back to his room, thinking about finding Cassian for some sparring practice. Working off some of this nervous energy would do him good.

_____________________________________________________________

Cerys hurried through getting dressed, pulling on an oversized jumper and dark trousers, roughly pulling her curls into a low ponytail. As she brushed her teeth, she gathered her thoughts.

Knowing the basics around Mor and Azriel’s years of history, she could see how it would be difficult to watch him with someone else, despite not wanting him herself. She figured her cousin would appreciate knowing about her and Azriel from her own mouth and not having to watch it progress and make assumptions.

Cerys moved down the hallway to the room they were in last night, spotting Mor curled in a seat by the window. Mercifully, she was alone. Drawing a breath, she steeled her nerves and went to sit beside her cousin.

Mor stiffened as she sat, keeping her eyes trained out at the sea. This might be prove difficult, Cerys thought as she settled into her seat.

“Mor… I think we should talk.” Mor’s mouth pressed into a line as she looked over at Cerys. Her expression was guarded, Cerys had no clue what she was thinking. Nodding slowly, she let out a breath. “Yeah, I agree.” She turned to face Cerys fully, drawing her legs up under her and gesturing for Cerys to continue.

“Well, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, Azriel and I are involved.” She looked down at her twisting fingers, unsure how much to reveal. “It’s more than just a passing thing, I really care about him. I want to be with him.” She took a steadying breath, keeping her eyes trained on her hands. “I know you two have a history but I really can see a future with us and I want us all to be able to be around each other and not be awkward.” Cerys knew she was rambling, feeling her voice begin to choke up.

She looked up, Mor’s gaze had softened, the line of her mouth less severe. “I suppose Azriel told you about us.” She let out a quiet laugh. “Well, there was never really an _us.”_ Her face was serious, considering. “I knew he was interested, all those years. It will always be a regret that I didn’t let him down sooner.”

Mor frowned, looking back out to see. “To be honest, I enjoyed it. The attention, the closeness between us. In a sense, I was using him as much as he was using me.” She sighed, meeting Cerys’ gaze again. “When I noticed he was starting to show interest in you, I was jealous and hurt. I know that it wasn’t fair, I shouldn’t expect him to continue to be that person for me when…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

She seemed to decide something, nodding to herself. “I could never love Azriel like he wanted, like he deserves.” Her eyes were steady on Cerys’, pleading. “Truth is, I prefer females. I like both, but I can only really see myself long term with a female. I knew I could never give in to Azriel and have it only be a one night thing. He deserved more than that.” She watched Cerys’ reaction carefully.

Cerys’ mind was reeling. She hadn’t expected that, did Azriel know? Her heart suddenly went out to her cousin, she knew what it was like to live with a part of yourself stifled and hidden. Reaching out, she tightly clasped Mor’s hand with her own. “Mor… he cares about you. We all do, so much. Nothing can change that.” She felt tears welling up in her eyes, matching the ones beginning to slide down Mor’s face. “Who you love doesn’t change that in the slightest.”

Mor nodded, blowing out a breath and giving her a watery smile. “I know I should tell him, tell everyone. I will just… not yet.” Cerys nodded, squeezing her cousin’s hand. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She smiled at her gratefully, standing up to envelope Cerys with her arms. “Thank you.” She pulled back to look into Cerys’ face. “I am happy for you both. Truly. Azriel is the best sort of male, he deserves all the love you have to give him.” Cerys smiled, holding Mor tighter.

She eased out of Cerys’ arms, “Just, give me some time to get used to it. I’m sorry if I’ve made things weird.” Cerys shook her head reassuringly. “No, don’t be. I’m sorry I didn’t come talk to you earlier.”

Smiling, Mor grabbed her hand and walked them both over to the breakfast spread. “Don’t worry about it. Now, I think we both deserve to eat our feelings with some of these pastries.” She laughed, picking up a chocolate, flaky looking confection. An excellent idea, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of everything in this chapter! Glad to clear up the air a bit with Mor, although I do think her and Azriel need to have a big talk here soon. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! x


	16. Sixteen

Unwrapping his hands, Azriel stretched his arms out, looking over to smirk at Cassian. His brother was bent over, hands on his knees. Azriel was right, sparring with Cass was exactly what he needed this morning.

“Still wound a bit tight, Az?” Cassian chuckled, standing upright. “Thought you’d be more mellow after the rumours that have been going around.” Azriel glared, pausing in unwrapping. “What rumours?”

Cassian winked, taking a swig of water. “You two left the table in an awful hurry last night, anyways.” He walked closer, eyes bright. Azriel recognised the look in his brother’s face and he didn’t like it one bit. Flaring his wings, he squared his feet and shot Cassian a look of warning.

Chuckling, Cassian threw his hands up innocently, “I won’t say anything more. Just that I haven’t had a good fight since like when Rhys mated Feyre in a while and I’m, ah… Looking forward to the challenge.” He raised an eyebrow, purposefully trying to get a rise out of the shadowsinger.

Azriel launched himself at Cassian, catching him off guard with a swift punch in the gut. Doubled over, Cassian laughed through his wheezing. Straightening up, he scraped his hair back, grinning, “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”

They continued to spar for the next hour, leaving off when Nesta came storming out of the house, hands on her hips. “Are you two children nearly done?”

Cassian immediately stopped, heading over to wrap his mate in sweaty arms. She pushed him off irritably, smoothing her hand down her dress. “Bath, first.” Cassian chuckled, leaning down to whisper something in her ear. Based on Nesta’s blush, Azriel was glad he was too far away to hear what was said.

They headed off together, leaving Azriel standing in the training ring, breathing hard. Shielding his eyes, he looked up at the house, wondering how Cerys was getting on with Mor. He had hid for long enough out here, it was time to go in and see what the damage was.

Making his way to his rooms, he couldn’t help but smile at the devastation inside. His bed was a complete mess, covers strewn everywhere, feathers littering the floor from where his wingtip must have pierced a pillow. He went to work straightening everything, hoping it wasn’t too long before Cerys was back in his bed.

Sinking into the tub, his mind wandered back to Cerys and Mor’s conversation. Part of him was angry at Mor for reacting like she did when she saw them this morning. It wasn’t her place to dictate what he did in his life, not anymore.

Azriel knew he was acting out of character with Cerys. He wasn’t usually the type to fall head over heels so quickly, but he just couldn’t help it. Rubbing soap into his hair, he sighed. He wasn’t sure if they should slow down, if he should try to distance himself slightly to add some perspective to their relationship.

He didn’t want to, he wanted to be around her constantly. Wanted her to know him completely. Azriel didn’t know what the right thing to do was, he was wholly out of his depth. And there was the added element of the mating bond.

Leaning back in the tub and closing his eyes, he let out a quiet groan. Was Cerys his mate? Is that why he felt so besotted after only weeks? Gods knew he didn’t move quickly when it came to females, which is why his rapidly developing feelings concerned him.

Would Cerys even _want_ to be his mate? He knew she cared about it, was obviously attracted to him. But a mate? So soon after coming back to the Night Court? And someone as damaged as he was, with such a tangled history with her cousin. His heart sunk as he considered it. He knew he should talk to her about it, see her point of view, but truthfully, he was scared. Scared to hear his fears confirmed.

As much as Mor rejecting him had hurt, he had 500 years of her rebuffs to prepare himself. If Cerys rejected him, only wanted him for a pleasant distraction, a release, he knew he would be heartbroken. He felt utterly exposed, vulnerable. Slipping fully under the water, he fought the panic rising in him. He needed to get away, get some alone time to sort through this.

Rising out of the tub, he quickly dressed, thoughts only for taking to the sky. He would go to his mother’s house, the house by the lake. Tomorrow was Solstice, he’d be back then. He needed to leave.

Making his way swiftly from his room, he wreathed himself in shadows as he hurried out of the house. An open doorway caught his attention, looking over to spot everyone relaxing in the front room. Cerys was sitting in a big chair, wrapped in a large jumper, hair everywhere. She was laughing at something with Rhys and Mor, her whole countenance relaxed and happy. She shone brighter than the sun.

His heart clenched painfully watching her. She was so perfect, so at ease with her family. As much as he was falling for her, needed her in his life, he wasn’t so sure she felt the same. Cerys suddenly whipped her head around, scanning around where Azriel was standing concealed, brow furrowed.

He tucked deeper into the shadows, watching her. She looked concerned suddenly, rising partially out of her seat. Rhys reached out and tapped her leg, leaning forward to ask her a question. Cerys shot one more confused look in his direction before turning back to Rhys, lightly shaking her head.

It was time to go, he needed to give himself some space. She might be confused as to why he had left so swiftly, but Azriel was sure she wouldn’t give it too much thought, not surrounded by friends and family at her favourite place.

He shot into the sky, making his way off the island towards his home, heart heavy. It was for the best. As he flew, he knocked on Rhys’ mental wall, feeling it open to him immediately.

“ _I have something I need to take care of. I’ll be back tomorrow.”_

There was a significant pause on Rhys’ end, Azriel started to wonder if he was paying attention.

 _“Does Cerys know?”_ Rhys replied, tone serious. _“No… It’s just for the night. Give everyone my regards.”_ Azriel quickly left the channel, not in the mood for Rhys’ prying.

_____________________________________________________________

Cerys felt unsettled, she was sure she saw something in the shadows outside the open door. As she was looking, she felt a pulse of sadness through her that didn’t feel like her own. She thought maybe it was Azriel in the shadows, rising out of her seat to go investigate.

Before she could get far, Rhys tapped her leg, drawing her attention back. “Everything ok?” He asked, looking concerned.

She sighed, perhaps her eyes were playing tricks on her. “Yes, just thought I saw something.” She focused her attention back on the conversation, pasting a smile on. Rhys still looked a bit worried, leaning back in his seat with his eyes glazed over. She recognised that look, usually seeing it when him and Feyre were having one of their mind-to-mind chats. Cerys glanced over, Feyre was deep in conversation with Danuta, who was gesturing wildly about something.

Rhys sighed, scraping his hand down his face. He looked upset. “Who was that?” She knew she was prying but couldn’t help her curiosity.

His expression veiled. “Azriel. He’s away for the night.” Her mood instantly plummeted, she _knew_ she had sensed him outside the room. Had she done something to make him leave?

“Oh… Did he say why?” Rhys shook his head, eyes scanning hers.

With a start, she noticed Mor leaning over, intent on their conversation. “Az left?” Her voice was low as she moved a hand over to place it on Cerys’ shoulder. Turning to her, she said, “I’m sure it’s nothing. He gets like this sometimes.”

Cerys felt sick, she hated not knowing what was the matter. She felt jealousy bloom unwillingly in her at Mor’s confident tone, she knew him so well. Better than Cerys did. She turned back to Rhys. “Did he say were he was going?”

Rhys shook his head again, pity washing across his features. Was there something going on that she was unaware of? Her eyes flickered between him and Mor, wanting to know if there was something she was missing.

“Is… is this something that happens a lot? Him taking off without a word?” Rhys looked over at Mor, she recognised the far away look in his eyes that meant they were talking privately. Cerys abruptly stood up, angry.

“I know I haven’t known him very long, but I’d appreciate if you two didn’t talk about him like I wasn’t even here.” She crossed her arms, pivoting to leave the room. Rhys’ hand shot out, turning her back around to face them.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t have been speaking without you.” He sighed, gesturing for her to sit again. After a moment, she complied, sitting with her spine locked at the edge of her seat. His eyes studied her face, contemplating.

“Azriel is not a flighty person, he doesn’t usually take off without reason. I don’t know why he left all of the sudden, but if it was something to do with you, I’m sure he would’ve said.” Cerys leaned back, her mind turning over his words. They had a truthfully unbelievable night together last night, she knew he had enjoyed himself as much as she did. So why had he left so suddenly without telling her?

Mor leaned forward, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “He might have gotten scared, with how fast you two are moving. He’s not very good with being open with relationships. He probably feels insecure.” Her words made Cerys feel worse, a pulse of anger towards her cousin passing through her, standing up abruptly.

“I wonder why that is,” she hissed, turning around and making for the door before Mor could respond, ignoring Rhys calling out for her. She had to find him, the last thing she wanted was him feeling like she didn’t care for him, wasn’t falling for him.

Leaving the house, her mind turned to where he could be. She thought the best chance was his lakeside house he had shown her. She could feel a slight tug towards the house, something inside her telling her that’s where he was. It wasn’t far from here, once she reached the mainland it would take her maybe an hour to fly there from the coast. _If_ she could fly.

Summoning her wings, she gritted her teeth. She would fly in short intervals, giving herself time to get used to her wings. The northern tip of the island was the closest to the mainland, that’s where she would head.

Flaring her wings, she gave them an experimental flap. They were immensely heavy, straining her muscles and making her back scream in agony. She should’ve started practicing weeks ago, when she first arrived. Straightening, she shoved her pain to the back of her mind. She _would_ do this. She would find him.

Lifting her wings, she let the wind lift her high above the house. All she needed to do was keep them steady and the wind could do the rest. With a stroke of ingenuity, she summoned tendrils of darkness to support the undersides of her wings, allowing them to steady her and take some of the weight off her back.

The wind carried her over the tops of the trees, she could see the tip of the island in the distance, drawing closer. Once she got there, she would allow herself a brief break. Her heart was pounding, switching between the exhilaration of finally flying and worry for how Azriel was currently feeling.

As angry as she was with Mor for encouraging his belief that he wasn’t worthy of a relationship, of love, she knew she was right. She had no doubt he was feeling insecure and vulnerable. She would fix that, she didn’t want to lose him.

Finally, her back in agony, she landed at the northern coast, immediately vanishing her wings. She could barely make out the mainland from here, a dark green smudge on the horizon. The sea was wild today, strong winds sweeping across the open water. Cerys felt an undercurrent of nerves stain her determination. She knew she wasn’t a strong flier and the prospect of crossing the sea was daunting.

The light was quickly fading, she knew she had to start flying now if she wanted to reach the cabin by nightfall. Steeling herself, she re-summoned her wings and took to the air.

_____________________________________________________________

The lake was choppy today, wind skating over the top and making the dock Azriel was on sway back and forth. He didn’t mind the darkening weather, it suited his mood just fine.

He sighed, scuffing the tip of his boot against the lip of the dock. He didn’t feel any better here than he did at the island home. If anything, he felt worse. Cowardly, for fleeing instead of talking to Cerys directly.

He was scared, terrified that she didn’t feel the same for him as he did for her. She was the best thing that had happened to him in his long life, and here he was, hiding away when he should be with her. Letting himself enjoy her presence.

There was so much about her Azriel adored. Her wild hair, twining like silk around his fingers. How well they connected and were on the same page in the bedroom, how they liked the same things. He appreciated her openness with her own trauma and how she encouraged him to work through his with a gentle touch. He truly felt like they complimented each other so well and he was furious with himself for putting that in jeopardy.

With a start, Azriel realised he was falling in love with her, if he didn’t love her already. His heart pounded, frantic in his chest. He _loved_ her. He knew in that moment he had made a big mistake, leaving like he did. He had to go back, had to find her and tell her. His fears be damned, she deserved the truth.

Stretching his wings, he took to the sky, feeling lighter than he had in years. His love for Cerys was so drastically different from the love he once held so closely for Mor. His love was based on who she was, how they fit together. It wasn’t based on idealised daydreams and insecurity, it was based on reality. Gods, he had to find her immediately.

His wings spread wide, pulling him closer to the coast. The weather truly was awful, rain beginning to whip up alongside the wind. His wings struggled to keep him in the air, eyes straining for the familiar coastline.

Suddenly, a clap of fear and panic split straight through him, causing him to fall several feet from the air with shock. The fear wasn’t his own, he intrinsically felt it was Cerys’. She was in trouble, wherever she was. Azriel felt the panic escalade, feeling his heart stop in his chest.

He moved quicker through the air, steadying himself and focusing on that ever present pull towards her. She didn’t feel like she was far off, definitely not on the island. Cauldron, had she tried to fly here? He was truly panicking now, flying low over the coast scanning for her.

The sea was in a frenzy, waves crashing relentlessly against the sharp rocks lining the coast. Suddenly, he spotted a dark shape against one of the rocks not far from the shore. Azriel swooped closer, eyes trained down.

Cerys was half on a rock, he could see her wings draped out behind her, one bent at an unnatural angle, a fallen angel. Her head lolled back, dark hair streaming back behind her. As he flew closer he spotted blood seeping from a gash on her forehead, dark and ominous against her pale skin.

His mind shut down, only thoughts towards saving her. Faster and faster he flew using his siphons to manipulate his body quicker through the winds. To his horror, a massive wave crested over Cerys, sweeping her from the rock and into the pounding sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger!!! Next chapter will most likely be up tomorrow :)


	17. Seventeen

It was too dark, the waves too wild below. Azriel couldn’t see anything near the rock Cerys had vanished from, not a wingtip or a flash of pale skin. Nothing. He could think of nothing else, his pounding heart echoing in his ears as he swooped across the water. He _had_ to find her. She couldn’t be gone.

Azriel focused on that faint tug, deep within him. Almost like a tickle, a nudge pulling him towards a swirling vortex to his right where waves were converging. He dipped down low, scanning the water. He couldn’t allow himself to give in to his panic, not yet.

His heart leapt, spotting a flash of _something_ on the water. He shot towards the spot, seeing Cerys’ arm and wing shoot from the water before vanishing again. Azriel dived, wings fighting to keep him in the air as he grabbed for her.

Somehow, he managed to grab her under her arms, quickly manoeuvring her up out of the water. She wasn’t doing well, head lolling off his arms, wings draped awkwardly behind her. Her chest wasn’t moving and her skin was unbearably icy. Azriel’s heart pounded, desperate to make it to land and get her breathing again, he would not sit there and watch the life drain out from her.

Finally reaching land, he began chest compressions, using his magic to shock her heart. Weakly, he felt it start to stir under his palms, but she still wasn’t breathing. Desperate now, he pressed his mouth to hers, breathing air directly into her. Minutes passed, Azriel growing more and more frantic. He could feel that pull drawing her to him growing fainter, the beats of her heart growing faint.

“ _NO!”_ He growled, breathing into her mouth while his hands pressed rhythmically on her chest. Begging the cauldron, the gods, anyone who could hear him for a miracle, just once in his life. He just needed her to live.

Cerys suddenly twitched violently, water spewing out of her mouth in a great torrent as she began coughing and gasping. Waves of relief passed over Azriel as he carefully helped sit her upright, patting firmly on her back to help with the coughing.

Her drained face met his, twisted with pain. “ _Azriel…_ ” she gasped, chest continuing to heave. She gestured weakly behind her at her wings, one bent painfully in the wrong direction, bone protruding from the skin. Cerys groaned in pain, rolling onto her side and gripping Azriel’s arm.

“I’m going to winnow us now Cerys, I need you to stay awake,” Azriel demanded, scooping her into his arms as gently as he could. He was unbearably relived she was alive.

She lay in his arms, eyes locked on his. Her face was entirely bloodless, lips a pale shade of blue. A wave of fear passed over him as her head rolled back, passing out. Azriel swore, summoning his shadows to winnow them to his home.

They materialised in his bedroom seconds later, Azriel moving quickly to lay her on his bed. She was still unconscious, however her breathing sounded clear and heart was beating steadily. He thought it might be best that she wasn’t awake for the next part. Azriel frowned, examining her broken wing.

Those beautiful wings, the first thing he noticed about her. What was once perfect and unblemished now was littered with punctures and tears, her left wing being the worst with the broken bone. His heart broke for her, the pain she must be in.

Pushing her damp hair away from her face, Azriel gathered his supplies to set and splint her wing. Luckily, he was well versed in battle healing and her wing wouldn’t pose a problem for him to heal, despite how hard it was to see her in pain.

He worked quickly, before she could wake. Once her wing was wrapped tightly with bandages and his own magic, he set about stitching the larger holes and rubbing salve over the rest. He checked her pulse and breathing periodically as she slept, her vitals still looking good.

Frowning, he examined her soaked clothes. She was shivering slightly in the bed, her skin still damp and clammy. Slipping Truth Teller from his holster, he cut through her jacket and trousers to avoid moving her and risk waking her up. Once she was free of the sodden clothes, he wrapped her in one of his jumpers and a pile of blankets, sitting down beside her to cradle her hands in his. He prayed it would be enough.

_____________________________________________________________

These were strange dreams, indeed.

She was flying one moment, fighting wind and rain to stay above the water, the air pushing and pulling her in every direction. The next moment, the sea had claimed her at last. Filling her nose and mouth, dragging her down, she fought for as long as she could.

This was the end. It was peaceful, warm.

The sea was lighter than she remembered. Her memories from growing up included an angry sea full of swirling greys and blues. Warnings to steer clear of the water, you would never be stronger than the sea. In a battle of wills, you would lose.

Yet, here she was. Floating, drifting, sinking, she didn’t know. She stretched her hands out in front of her, they were younger than she remembered. The hands of a child. Unblemished by scars or callouses or other marks of a long life.

She raised her hands up above her head, following their progress with her eyes. Far above her outstretched fingers, a bright light shone. Brighter than any sun she’d ever seen. It called to her, pulled her forward.

Drifting towards it, she looked around. Below her was inky blackness, a kind so consuming it had no beginning and no end. Simple, velvet dark. Comforting, in a way. She had always liked the dark.

Currently, she was floating through a sort of pale grey. It was warm, reminding her of the pale light of dawn just as the sun was beginning to lighten the sky. The colour of rain clouds moments before a storm. She could stay here, in this in-between. Existing. Nothing would bother her here.

Her body continued to float upwards, her eyes moving once again to that bright, pure gold above. As she drifted, she became aware of flecks of light passing by her. Floating down like dust motes in the sun, golden and blue so bright it was nearly white. She stuck out her hand to catch one, surprised to see her hand had aged, familiar once more.

The golden rain continued to slide past her, growing thicker the closer she moved towards the light above. The further she moved she became aware of a growing pain, her lungs were beginning to burn. She twisted her head around, watching her wings stretch and flex behind her.

They were moving without her command, flaring out wide around her, carrying her faster towards the light above. She tried to breathe in the strange atmosphere around her but her lungs wouldn’t obey. The light grew brighter, surrounding her completely.

She _needed_ to get to the top of it, needed fresh air and a surface to land on. She didn’t want to stay here any longer, in this purgatory.

The light narrowed, forming a shining rope that would down her body. It snaked down one arm, wrapping around her torso to spin down one of her legs, wrapping firmly and tugging her up. Her fingers scratched at the rope, tugging at it desperately to pull her quicker to the surface.

It was silken and warm on her skin, turning her fingertips a bright, metallic gold where she touched it. Abruptly, everything went black, illuminated only by the glowing rope wrapped around her. The pain in her lungs eased slightly as she looked up, examining the stretch of rope that shot off into the darkness. She didn’t know where she was, but intrinsically she knew the rope would carry her to safety.

The illusion around her began to crumble, her eyes forcing themselves closed. It was her time to go, she needed to go back. Only the feeling of the rope still gripped in her palms carried her forwards.

Cerys’ eyes opened with a gasp, locking with Azriel’s. Only one thought went through her mind as their gazes met.

_Mate._

_____________________________________________________________

Cerys’ woke up with a start, hands locked around his so hard it was beginning to hurt. Her eyes opened, locking with his. Azriel felt his world begin to shift, moving and realigning around her. Cerys. _His mate._

He knew that she was experiencing the bond locking into place the same moment he was, saw every emotion he was feeling echoed on her face. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, not for the world. Azriel knew in that moment that she was his, as surely as he was hers. Irrevocably and eternally, she was _his._

Her hands were shaking in his, or perhaps he was the one shaking. They continued to gaze at each other in wonder, basking in the golden glow that surrounded them. He would never be parted from her, would move heavens and earth for her, to keep her safe. His world was forever changed.

She suddenly laughed, an exhilarated and stunned sound. He broke from his revere, feeling an all consuming joy like he had never felt wash over him. Cerys had tears streaming down her face now, moving her hand up to cradle his face, fingers digging into the back of her neck.

Their mouths met roughly, consuming each other. Azriel had never had a kiss like this, he sensed every emotion she was feeling and sent all the love he could back towards her. Cerys. His mate.

Minutes later, she pulled back, resting her forehead against his. “Tell me you feel it too,” she whispered against his lips. “Tell me it snapped into place for you as well.” He laughed against her, nodding his head.

“Yes, Cerys. My mate.” She groaned at the words, pulling his mouth back to hers. He couldn’t get enough of her, sliding his hands around her face and into her hair, pushing her closer to him. They continued on for what felt like hours, tasting and exploring every inch. She pushed off the bed, making to move into his lap. As soon as she made it upright, her eyes screwed shut with pain.

He quickly lowered her back to the bed, scanning over her wings. “You’re injured… let’s get you back in bed.” She furrowed her brows at him, looking annoyed. “I don’t want to be in bed, I want to be getting to know my mate.” He quickly pushed down his blood heating at her words, focusing solely on helping her heal.

Sighing, he dragged a chair over to sit beside her head, leaning forward so their faces were level. Reaching out, he smoothed her hair back from her brow. “I know, believe me, that’s what I want to be doing too.” He let himself smile suggestively at her, “But you need to be in full health for what I have planned for us.”

She pouted adorably. “When will I be healed enough?” He laughed at her tone, so demanding. “Well, you do have that Illyrian quick healing traits. Some of your smaller cuts have already healed.” He sighed, leaning over her to glance at her wings. “By tomorrow you should be ready for some… less strenuous activity.”

Cerys raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “Oh? Now what would that entail?” Azriel chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to her hair before rising out of his seat. “Guess you’ll have to find out.” She huffed, reaching a hand out to pull him back down.

“I’m just going to get us some food,” he said, moving to pull his hand away and head to the kitchen. She frowned slightly, increasing her grip. “Help me up, please.” She gulped in a breath, steeling herself before swinging her legs off the bed.

“Cerys, what are you doing? You need to stay in bed, heal.” She shot him a look, stubbornly continuing to manoeuvre her way upright. Sighing, he helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Where are we going, then?”

She chuckled slightly, face still focused. “The kitchen, please.” It was slow going, Azriel fortified her wings with magic, taking the pressure off her back. She looked grateful, easing out a breath as the weight lifted from her shoulders. “Thank you… my back is pretty sore from flying.”

He frowned slightly, helping her into a chair at the kitchen table. “Yes, about that. Why were you coming to find me?” She scowled at him, shaking her head. “I would’ve thought that was obvious.” She studied his face carefully, waiting for a response.

He kept quiet, wanting to hear the words from her own mouth. She sighed, continuing. “I was worried, when you left. Mor said some things I didn’t like, then you left so suddenly…” She trailed off, eyes shifting to watch the lake. “I couldn’t go one more moment knowing you didn’t know where we stood, how I feel about you.”

Azriel moved closer, sitting beside her and sliding his palms up her thighs. He brought one hand up, cradling her face and rubbing his thumb over her lips, keeping her from speaking. “May I?” She nodded mutely.

“I left because I got scared. I felt vulnerable and I didn’t want to lose you.” He gathered himself, endeavouring to make this a moment that would dictate the rest of his life, stroking his thumbs over the arch of her cheekbones. “I realised that I loved you, Cerys. I love you.” Her eyes filled with tears, gaze locked on his. She shifted forward, wrapping her hands around his forearms.

“I love you too, Azriel.” She took a shaky breath, “ _So_ much. My mate.” He let out a watery laugh, surprised to find tears that matched hers coursing down his face. She leaned forward, kissing them away with a tenderness that caught his heart in his throat.

She slid her hands to his shoulders, bracing herself to rise. “Now, there’s something I have to do.” He watched as she walked to the kitchen on unsteady legs, waving him away when he went to rise to help her.

“You stay seated, there’s something I need to do.” She began opening various cupboards, placing a pan on the stove. She smiled over at him, face happier than he’d ever seen it. “Now, I’m not much of a chef, but I can make a mean fried egg.” His heart leapt, she was making him food. Cerys was accepting the mating bond, formally.

He grinned at her, drumming his fingers against the table. “Rhys and Cassian asked me, you know, if I thought you were my mate.” She looked up with interest, pausing in the middle of dropping a pad of butter onto the hot pan. “Oh? What did you say?”

“I told them I hoped you were. That I would be the luckiest male alive to have you as my mate.” Her cheeks heated, gaze warm on him. “I hoped you were, too,” she replied quietly, sliding the egg onto a waiting slice of toast.

She made her way over to him slowly, setting the plate down in front of him with a flourish. “One egg special!” He smiled up at her, breaking the yolk. It was a spectacularly nice looking fried egg.

He worked his way through his meal, feeling the weight of her gaze on him. Once he had set his fork aside, he leaned back, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to catch a smudge of yolk. Her eyes were dark on him, undisguised longing on her face. She watched his every movement.

“Cerys… don’t look at me like that. I don’t want to hurt you.” She sighed, looking distinctly put out. “I understand.” She fought a yawn, pulling a handful of hair towards her nose, wrinkling it in distaste. “I smell like the sea.”

Her eyes flashed back to him, suddenly mischievous. “I know I’m not in the form for anything too fun, but would we be able to take a bath together?” She sighed longingly, looking him over. “That might tide me over for the meantime.”

He chuckled, moving to gather her into his arms. “I think we can manage that, yes.”

_____________________________________________________________

Cerys couldn’t take her eyes off him. Azriel. Her mate. She still couldn’t believe it was real, that he was hers. She had made him food and accepted the bond. She had a _mate._

Hiding her grin, she tucked her nose into his neck as he walked them towards the bathroom. She didn’t think she’d ever been so angry to be injured as she was at that very moment. What she wouldn’t give to have him naked and over her right now.

“Do you think the broken bone will be healed by tomorrow?” He looked down at her, considering. “Potentially, you have been healing remarkably quickly.” She nodded, “Good. As soon as the bandages are off I can vanish them again.” She smirked at him, wiggling her brows.

Azriel laughed, setting her gently on her feet and moving to turn the bathtub tap on. He must have changed her clothes in her sleep, she was dressed only in a large jumper smelling of him and her underthings. Spinning away from him, she gestured at her wings. “Can you help me with the buttons?” He complied, brushing his fingers down her spine as he worked the buttons open.

Turning to face him, she quickly shed the jumper and the clothing underneath, standing naked before him. He sucked in a breath, eyes roving over her greedily. “ _Cerys…_ You’re making this very difficult.”

She chuckled, moving over to the tub and treating him to the view of her bending over to test the water temperature. He made a strangled noise, the air filling with the sounds of his clothing quickly being shucked off.

Stepping gingerly into the water, she moved so her injured wings rested over the edge, sighing as the hot water slid over her. Her eyes shifted to watch Azriel walk towards her. He was glorious, all hard muscle and smooth skin. She fought groaning outright with frustration, she wanted him so badly she was nearly losing her mind.

He slid into the tub, moving to face her. His expression was dark, watching the water lap against her bare breasts. She was becoming more and more aroused as his eyes moved down her body, fixing on where her thighs were clenched under the water.

Cerys had enough. “Azriel… come here.” She held out her hand, beckoning him closer. He hesitated for a moment before moving to kneel in front of her in the water, their faces level.

She moved her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, sliding her fingers over the edge of his wing. Cerys watched, absolutely transfixed as his head tipped back, tendons in his neck showing against the skin. Her eyes traced rivulets of water moving over his jaw to run down his throat, pooling in the hollow between his collarbones.

She shifted, licking the path of one of the drops up his neck, feeling him moan beneath her tongue. His voice was quiet, choked. “Gods… I want you.” She hummed, continuing to lick and suck at his neck.

One of his hands reached up to cup her breast, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh. It was her turn to moan against his skin as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, tugging gently. “Please, I need you.” Her voice was breathy, wanting.

His other hand slid up her neck, tracing her mouth with two fingers. Her lips opened instinctively under him and he slid his fingers deep into her mouth, their locked eyes burning her from the inside out. She sucked, swirling her tongue around his fingertips.

He slid his fingers out of her mouth, trailing them softly down her throat where he paused, squeezing gently. She whimpered, her eyes falling shut.

“Look at me, Cerys.” He hand was still against her throat, squeezing with a delicious amount of pressure. She peeled her eyes open, meeting his heated gaze.

“What do you want?”

She could barely form words, focus entirely on his hands, one at her throat and the other tormenting her breasts. “I… I want your mouth.”

He dropped his hand from her throat, moving it down to cup under her ass, drawing her closer towards him. His lips met her ear.”

“Where do you want my mouth?” His voice was low and rough, he wanted this as badly as she did. She forced words to come, “In between my legs.”

Azriel chuckled softly into her ear sliding both hands under her ass. “How are your wings feeling?”

She shook her head desperately, her wings were the last thing on her mind. He watched her, examining for any sign of pain. Satisfied to find none, he gently lifted her to sit on the edge of the tub, spreading her thighs with his palms so she lay open beneath his gaze. Her chest heaved, she needed his tongue on her _now._

He shuffled closer, kissing up her thighs. His eyes were dark as he gazed up at her, sliding his fingers up to move up and down her gently. She sucked in a breath at his touch, fighting to keep her legs open. Keeping his eyes on her, he continued to move his fingers up and down through her, gathering wetness.

She gasped as two fingers pushed slowly inside her, stretching her perfectly. His gaze was intent on her still as he moved his fingers in and out torturously slow. “You don’t come until I say you can.”

Looking down at him, she nodded, shifting closer and clenching around his fingers. He turned his attention back to her, pulling his fingers away. She moaned uncontrollably as his tongue finally touched her, sliding far two slowly though her slick folds.

She felt like she was on fire as he continued to work through her, avoiding the one place she needed him most. She whimpered as he hooked her legs over his shoulders, both hands moving to grab her hips roughly, pressing her into her face.

Her legs shook around him, feeling that shimmering edge rise up before her. Azriel pulled back abruptly, sliding his mouth away and moving to run his finger slowly through her. She groaned, pressing her fingers into his hair. “ _Azriel,”_ she murmured, not above begging.

He rested his cheek on her thigh, continuing to move his fingers through her. “Yes?” She made a keening noise, pressing her heels into his back.

“Please, please let me come.” He hummed, moving forward to lick her again, far slower than she needed. Cerys continued to mutter soft, pleading words, trying to move her hips against his face. He gripped her hips firmly in place, pressing a soft kiss against her clit. She jumped against him at the touch, growing desperate.

He pushed his tongue inside her, teasing her unbearably. His eyes locked on hers as he once again swirled his tongue on her clit, pressing firmly. She began to pant, moans spilling out of her mouth. Looking down, she could see his hand shift down to work himself as he continued tormenting her, pulling her to the edge once again only to stop at the last second.

Her words were garbled now, desperate pleas pouring out of her mouth. “Look at me,” he demanded, lowering his mouth to her and sliding the flat of his tongue against her firmly. His hand was moving faster, working himself to the edge right along with her. Keeping his eyes fixed on her, his lips fastened on her clit and sucked.

She screamed, vision going white. Her whole body convulsed around him, coating his face and tongue with wetness. Vaguely, she registered his shoulders shaking under her legs as he brought himself over the edge right along with her.

It felt like eternity passed before she came to, looking down to see his dark head resting on her thigh, utterly spent. She reached out a hand to lazily brush through his hair, meeting his eyes. A slow, satisfied smile crossed his face. She chuckled, he had every right to be smug.

Azriel moved to pull her back into the water, coating a cloth with soap and helping her wash. They took their time, stealing kisses and slow caresses. After they had finished, Azriel tucked them into the bed, holding her tight to his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered against her hair, fingers running down her spine. She smiled against him, drawing her chin up to press a kiss against his lips. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeee there we have it!!!


	18. Eighteen

This is pretty much just pure filth- you've been warned.

_____________________________________________________________

Azriel woke with a start to someone absolutely _pounding_ on his mental walls. Rhysand, of course. He groaned, pushing his fingers into his temple and letting Rhys in.

 _“Is Cerys with you? Is she ok?”_ Dammit, he should’ve let Rhys know last night. He was bound to be worried after she had left without a word.

“ _Yes, she’s with me,”_ He replied, feeling Rhys’ palpable relief. “ _She hurt her wings flying but is feeling better. We probably won’t be back to Velaris for a while.”_ He wasn’t sure how comfortable Cerys would be telling the whole group right away, but he thought she’d want her brother to know about their bond.

 _“Oh? And why is that?”_ Rhys’ voice had turned sly, probing. Azriel was sure he had an inkling why, and wasn’t hugely fond of telling Cerys’ older brother they’d be sequestered having as much sex as possible for the foreseeable.

 _“The bond snapped into place.”_ Azriel went his usual route of getting straight to the point. Rhys chuckled down the line, voice light and happy, _“I thought that might be the case. I’ll see you both soon. Please don’t contact me while you’re there.”_ Azriel laughed to himself, feeling Rhys once more tap on his shield.

 _“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m happy for you both, brother.”_ He left then, his words filling Azriel with a quiet joy. Brothers, indeed.

Cerys was still sleeping peacefully against his chest, one arm tucked by her face and the other wrapped loosely around him. Her hair was wild around her, dark curls spilling onto his chest and over his arm. She was unbearably beautiful.

Carefully as to not wake her, he peered over at her wings spread out behind her. All of her scrapes and punctures had healed completely, leaving silver scars in their wake. Azriel thought that her broken bone was probably healed enough for her to vanish once she awoke. He sincerely hoped that was the case.

Last night had not been nearly enough to quell his desire for his mate. He wanted to fully seal their bond, preferably as soon as possible. He sighed, moving his eyes down her body. She was wearing one of his old shirts and nothing else, the hem riding up to barely cover her bum.

He admired that particular part for a good while, mind drifting to all the possibilities the days ahead could lead to.

Cerys shifted against him, lips parting. He watched as a quiet moan slipped out of her, hips moving to press herself firmly against him. Moving slowly, he manoeuvred the leg resting between her thighs tighter to her, feeling her hot against him. Interesting.

Her hand convulsed on his chest, hips moving firmly against his leg. He was growing hard just watching her. Gods, this was difficult.

Azriel slid his hand through her hair, waking her gently. Cerys huffed a breath, pressing her body even closer to him as her eyes opened. Her gaze went dark as she registered her position, the movement of her hips against him. “Azriel,” her voice was low, rough with sleep. Cauldron, he wanted her so badly.

He slid his hands down her in response, moving onto his side to draw level with her face. She pressed her hips down further on his leg until he felt the growing wetness there. Tipping her head back with a hand under her jaw, he moved to suck lightly on her pulse point, feeling her whimper beneath his mouth.

Azriel drew her lips to his, relishing in the feeling of her mouth opening for him. For minutes they kissed gently, waking up together. Cerys pulled back slightly, breath coming in pants. “I need you, Azriel. Right now.” He fought the instinct to roll on top of her and claim her immediately, leaning back to study her face.

“How are your wings?” She frowned, stretching them behind her on the bed. “They feel normal. Can you take the bandages off and I can vanish them?” He moved quickly off the bed, watching as she turned and spread her wings for his perusal.

Azriel skated two fingers over the edge of her right wing, smirking when she gasped and flexed her wings in response. “So sensitive,” he murmured, catching the glare she threw over her shoulder. He shifted to kneel behind her, carefully removing the bandages. Everything looked to be in order underneath, the line of her wing smooth and even. He pressed a kiss to the newly healed skin, chuckling when she shivered violently at the touch.

“How do they feel?” She stretched them experimentally, lifting them high above her back with a groan. “They feel fine. I can’t say the same for my back muscles, however.” Azriel watched as the wings vanished, leaving her hunched over in relief.

“I think I can help with that,” he murmured, kneading her shoulders firmly. Cerys dropped her head forward, sighing. “I knew you’d be good with your hands,” she quickly shucked her shirt and lay flat on her belly, completely naked before him.

Azriel set to work, massaging her sore back muscles and feeling her loosen up beneath his hands. He kept a firm leash on his lust as he moved over her back, not wanting to progress anything she wasn’t fully ready for.

Cerys arched her back slowly, straightening her arms straight in front of her. Azriel paused his ministrations, eyes fixed on her ass she had pushed into the air. Cerys looked at him over his shoulder, smiling coyly. “Feel free to move your hands wherever the wind takes you.”

The wind was definitely taking him her bum, moving to squeeze and knead the muscle. She moaned in response, sliding her thighs apart to give him a look at how wet she was already. Keeping one hand firm on her lower back to hold her hips to the bed, Azriel slid his fingers around to dip between her thighs.

Cerys pressed her face into the pillow, back arching against him to give him better access. His fingers slid through her easily, pushing up to press against her clit. She shuddered, spreading her knees apart on the bed.

Azriel thought he’d never seen such an erotic sight in his life then his mate spread out under him like this. He wanted her so badly, wanted to slide between her thighs and push into her heat, more than anything he’d wanted in his life.

He pushed two fingers into her roughly, holding her hips down. She cried out, clenching around his fingers. “That’s it,” he murmured, watching his fingers slip in and out of her. “I want to hear you. Tell me what you want.”

She moaned ineligibly into the pillow, clenching her fingers around the sheets. He paused his fingers, waiting. He wanted her to tell him exactly what she wanted. She turned her head, hair sticking to her face. “Make me come, Azriel.”

He smirked, sliding his fingers torturously slowly in and out of her. “Not yet.” She grunted, fighting to rock her hips against his hand. Azriel pressed his hand tighter to the small of her back, holding her firm. Gods knew she had her fair share of teasing him, it was his turn.

Continuing to rack up pleasure within her, he increased his speed just enough to get her shaking beneath him, wetness sliding down his hand. “Please, Azriel. I want to come.” Her voice was low, needy. In response, Azriel curled his fingers deep in her, knowing what hitting that spot would do.

Like a charm, she arched her back with a gasp, pressing down to push herself deeper on his fingers. “Please, please, please,” she chanted as he continued to curl and push his fingers in her. He chuckled, pulling his fingers out to spin her around. Her chest was heaving, legs immediately falling wide for him. He shoved his fingers back in, letting her ride his hand with abandon. Leaning down, he fastened his lips around her clit as his fingers curled and pushed at her walls.

She screamed, hips rising from the bed and pressing into his face. Azriel rode out her orgasm with soft licks, savouring her taste. He slowly pulled his fingers from her twitching body, catching her eyes as he licked them clean. She sighed, throwing her arm over her face.

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you. This is how I die.” He chuckled, pleased he could get such a response from his mate. “I hope you aren’t dead yet, love. We’re just getting started.”

_____________________________________________________________

Cerys thought she had died and been resurrected after the sinful pleasure Azriel had drawn from her body. Pulling herself together, she pushed up on her elbows to look him over. He was kneeling on the bed looking smug, still partially dressed. That just wouldn’t do.

“Come here,” she murmured, bending her knees and letting her legs fall open. He moved over her body, resting between her legs. She could feel how hard he was pressed against her and she was desperate to get him inside, at long last.

Hooking her fingers into his waistband, she pushed down impatiently. Azriel chuckled, quickly divesting himself of his remaining clothing, holding himself above her. Their mouths met in a surprisingly sweet kiss, lips moving gently.

Cerys slid her hands down his body, pressing into the indents down his stomach before slowly wrapping her hand around him. He jolted, hissing though his teeth. She looked down to watch her hand move, entranced, He was massive in her palm, larger than any male she’d ever had by a landslide. Biting her lip, she looked back at him.

“We may need to go slow so I can adjust, it’s been awhile.” She looked pointedly at his cock, hard in her hand. “Plus, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re huge.” He chuckled, blush heating his cheeks.

“Just what a male wants to hear.” She rolled her eyes, moving her hand faster. Azriel’s eyes drifted shut as his breathing picked up, “You may want to stop or this will be over very soon.” His voice was garbled, shoulders shaking above her.

She removed her hand regretfully, sliding it around to scratch against his back. “Azriel, I want you inside of me.” He groaned, reaching up to grab a pillow, sliding it under her hips. “This will help.” She nodded, biting back a moan as he kissed down her neck and guided her legs to wrap around his waist.

Cerys gasped as she felt him slide the head of his cock against her, moving up and down around her entrance and pressing on her clit. He wasn’t breathing above her, jaw clenched in concentration. Finally, he slowly began to slide it.

It was a tight fit. He took it in stages, pushing in inch by inch. Once he was fully seated, she breathed deeply, feeling her body adjust around him. He pushed at every delicious spot within her,stretching her walls and rubbing against her in just the right way.

Azriel was utterly still above her, looking up to meet her eyes. He blew out a breath, pressing a kiss to her mouth. “You feel unbelievable. So perfect,” he whispered against her ear, slowly moving himself out and pushing back in.

She squeezed her legs tighter, head falling back. “Faster, please, Azriel…” Words spilled out of her mouth, urging him to move harder in her. Already she was seeing stars, scratching her nails up and down his back, hitching her legs higher around him.

He was breathing hard, hand gripping her waist tightly as he moved. Suddenly, he sat up, unwrapping her legs to lay against his shoulders, leaning down to nearly fold her in half. She gasped at the new angle, feeling him so deep inside her it nearly hurt.

Her body wound tighter and tighter as he moved his hips rhythmically, pulling her closer and closer to the edge. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, his shadows suddenly shot out, pulling her wrists tightly above her head. Azriel sat upright, keeping her legs pulled up around his shoulders, sliding in and out of her faster and faster.

With her body stretched beneath him she was entirely at his mercy as he drove her over the edge, reaching down to slide his fingers over her clit as she felt her climax overtake her, feeling him do the same deep within her. She came hard, calling out his name and convulsing around him, losing track of where she ended and he began.

She felt the bond between them tangible and golden, an unbreakable rope that held them together as one. He was _hers,_ her mate, her lover, her partner. She couldn’t handle the emotions coursing through her, it was far too much.

They came down together, both panting and shaking as Azriel shifted to roll them onto their sides. For minutes, they lay in silence, recovering from the force of their coupling. He shifted forward to press his lips against her forehead, breath fanning over her face.

Minutes, or maybe hours, passed before Cerys slowly sat up, looking dazed. She blew out a breath, shaking her head. “That was unbelievable.” Azriel nodded, sitting up to fold her into his arms. “I agree.”

She laughed, pulling him out of bed and towards the bathroom. “Come on, I think we both could use a bath.”

_____________________________________________________________

The afternoon passed blissfully, neither of them wanting to spend a second not wrapped around the other. Azriel had never been so happy, basking in the love he had for his mate. What a joy it was, he thought, to love and be loved in return.

Throughout the day they continued to sate their appetites wherever the mood took them, which was everywhere in the house. The kitchen saw a particularly athletic session bent over the counters, the lakeside chairs saw Cerys on her knees, Azriel panting above her. He wondered if this would ever pass, this insatiable need to be inside her.

They were back in the bedroom, lazily kissing and stroking over each others bodies. He loved every part of her, and was fast learning what she liked. He knew, for instance, that she absolutely melted when he turned his attention to her sensitive nipples, teasing and rolling them until she screamed. He also learned that she loved when he was rough with her, binding her with his shadows and controlling her with his voice. Azriel loved that part of her without a doubt.

He glanced around the room, noting the large mirror that stood along the wall across from the bed. Perfect. Sliding his hand down between her legs, he found her already soaked and ready for him. She sighed beneath him, reaching down for his cock.

Azriel grabbed her hand before she could touch him, pulling it up to lie clasped with his beside her head. “I have something I’d like to try.” He smirked at her, pulling her from the bed and walking her over to the mirror.

Standing behind her, he drew his hands up to squeeze her breasts, tugging at her nipples. She lay her head back on his shoulder, whimpering. He tsk’d gently, biting her ear. “I want you to watch what I’m doing to you.” They locked eyes in the mirror as he moved his hands down her body to slip between her legs, sliding against her clit.

Her cheeks quickly grew flushed as she watched his hand move in the mirror, transfixed. He pushed two fingers into her as she gasped, fighting to keep her eyes on herself. “See how perfect you are? How much you want my fingers?” Azriel murmured against her ear, working his fingers in and out. She was panting in earnest now, legs beginning to shake.

He slid his fingers out, feeling her groan against him at the loss. Moving them over towards the low dresser on the wall next to the mirror, he bent her over to lean against its top. His hand moved down her spine, pausing to give her ass a firm smack. She jumped, whimpering. Azriel could see how wet she was and he was more than ready to be in her.

Moving his hand to her throat, he squeezed gently, turning her face to the mirror. “I want you to watch me fuck you.” Her expression was wild, mouth open and cheeks flushed. She was loving this as much as he was.

He teased her entrance with the tip of his cock, pushing into her until her ass rested against his hips. The bottles on top of the dresser fell with a crash as she braced herself on her elbows, eyes shutting.

She cried out as he smacked her ass again, hand moving to pull her head back by her hair. “Didn’t you hear me? Watch me fuck you.” She moaned uncontrollably, fixing her eyes to where they were joined in the mirror.

His hands moved back to her hips, holding her firmly as he drove into her, feeling her walls clench around him. Every drag of his cock was pure bliss, feeling her roll her hips against him. Azriel kept his own eyes locked on them in the mirror, loving the image of him thrusting into her as she writhed against him.

He pulled her head back roughly, fingers scraping against her scalp. Cerys cried out, clenching tight around him. “Come for me,” he ground out, hips driving harder into her. She convulsed around him, gripping the edge of the dresser to keep herself on earth.

Azriel felt himself follow shortly after with a shout, unable to resist as she pushed her ass back roughly into him, taking every stroke. Her legs gave out and he guided them to the floor, pulling out and shifting her twitching body to lie on his chest.

Minutes later, he slowly rose to his feet, cradling her in his arms. Cerys’ eyes were slipping shut, body utterly boneless. She murmured his name, turning to press her nose into his chest. Azriel tucked them both into bed, feeling himself start to succumb to the exhaustion.

“Same again tomorrow?” He asked teasingly. She chuckled against him sleepily, nodding her head. “And every day after, forever.” Azriel laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I think we’ll have to get back to our responsibilities at some point, love.”

She tilted her head back to meet his eyes, soft smile on her face. “True. But not yet.”

He smiled down at her, heart full. “Not yet.”


	19. Nineteen

The week passed in bliss, never moving too far from the bed. Or any available surface, really. Cerys was deliriously happy, every moment she was thanking the Mother for a mate like Azriel.

They spent hours talking, discussing memories both beautiful and devastating. Both of them had much in their past that continued to weigh heavily. Trauma was a part of them, it was something they’d work through head on and face together. Never alone again.

The morning of the eighth day Cerys woke early, the sky magnificent hues of pink and red in the early dawn light. Azriel was still curled around her in sleep, arms banded across her chest and hips. She sighed, rolling to press a kiss to his jaw.

“Hey…” He breathed out, stirring. “My love, there’s something I want to show you,” she whispered. His eyes opened, bleary with sleep. Cerys giggled at his addled expression, so open and unguarded after the week they spent together in the cabin.

She urged him out of bed and into clothes, laughing at his grumbling. “Come on, you won’t regret it.” It was too perfect of a morning to spend sleeping, she thought, glancing at the vibrant colours out the window. It needed to be seen from the air.

They stepped out onto the dock as Cerys summoned her wings, stretching her back out against their weight. He looked over her, eyebrows raised.

“Are we going to fly?” His eyes were worried but there was a small smile playing around his lips, he wanted to get into the air as much as she did.

“Yes, not for very long but I want to fly with you.” She raised a hand, gesturing widely across the sky, a watercolour of shades. Spreading her wings, she grabbed Azriel’s hands and prepared to lift off.

Azriel quickly raised her hand to his lips, dropping a kiss to the underside of her wrist. She suppressed a shiver, remembering his soft mouth other places on her body. He smirked, sensing the direction of her thoughts, lifting off from the ground and pulling her into the sky.

Cerys gasped as the cleared the dusting of clouds, taking in the startling beauty around them. The sky was bright pink with streaks of purple and orange running across it. The mountains surrounding them were lit up gold with the rising sun, casting long shadows through the forest. She rolled on her back, letting her wings keep her floating in the air. Through the colour you could see pinpricks of stars, high above and fading fast.

As she hovered transfixed, she felt the weight of Azriel’s eyes on her. She looked over, meeting his gaze. Eyes wide, his face was so full of love and awe she felt her cheeks heat in response. He was beautiful in the dawn light, hair awry and lit up with the glow of the morning.

Azriel twined her curls around his fingers, drawing her face to his. Meeting his mouth in a soft kiss, they stayed there, high above the earth, greeting the new day and enjoying the time spent together.

Hours later, they stood in front of the house, fully dressed for the first time all week. They were heading back to Velaris and Cerys was nervous.

She was sure by now everyone knew they were mates. It would be fairly obvious, after their closeness pre Solstice and then taking off for a week. She had to talked to Rhys a few times over the week and knew how happy he was for them, but the rest she was honestly unsure about.

Sighing, she looked over at Azriel. “Are we headed straight to the riverhouse?” He contemplated, sliding his hand down her arm to lace their fingers together.

“If you’d like. Or… I can show you my house first?” Cerys immediately perked up, interest piqued. “I didn’t know you had a house in Velaris?”

He laughed, squeezing her hand. “What, did you think I just slept on the street?” Rolling her eyes, she tucked closer in to his side.

“No, I figured you lived at the House of Wind or something.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “No. But you’ll be the first person I’ve ever brought back.” His voice was shy, looking down at her under his lashes.

“Like, ever? Or first female?”

“First person, period,” he replied. As surprised as she was, she couldn’t help the spark of possessiveness knowing that no one, lovers or friends, had ever been in his private space. Just her.

She cocked her head, studying his face. “Why?” His eyes were steady on hers, thinking.

“It’s always been the only place that’s just mine. Where I could relax and unwind. I like having somewhere no one could find me.” She nodded, understanding. Most of her life was spent with virtually no privacy, being shuttled from one place to the next, always watched. She understood better than most the need for a space to call your own.

He shot her a quick smile, summoning his shadows to whisk them away to Velaris. They landed not far from the waterfall lookout they had met at not too long ago, in front of a row of houses. Cerys looked around, admiring the mountain view starting just past the homes. They weren’t small by any means, but gave off secluded, intimate feeling that she liked.

Grabbing her hand, he led her to the house nearest them, sliding the key into the lock. Azriel paused briefly before opening the door, drawing a breath. She knew this was a big moment for him, letting someone in to his space. As much as them admitting their feelings and accepting the mating bond was a turning point, so was this.

She squeezed his hand encouragingly, pressing herself into his arm. He lets out his breath and pushes open the door, leading her inside.

_____________________________________________________________

Azriel led Cerys into his house, heart pounding. He knew he was being ridiculous, he had shared more with her both body and mind over the past week than he ever had with a person, yet here he was, nervous to show her his house.

Cerys moved around the main room, looking out the window, running her fingers over the spines of his books, her face unreadable. Azriel stands nervously by the door, fingers clasped in front of him.

Finally, she turns towards him. Her face was lit up with a bright smile and Azriel feels his body relax slightly. “I love it,” she says, moving closer to him.

Wrapping her in his arms, he leans down, studying her face. “Yeah?” He pulls her to the stairs at the back of the house, “I’ll show you the rest.”

He led her up the stairs to the second floor, watching her take in his tidy office and relatively sparse bedroom. He knew it was simple and understated, but it was home. As with the downstairs, she took her time examining everything. In his bedroom she ran her hand up one of the tall wooden posters leading up the canopy, raising her eyebrows suggestively. Azriel chuckled, knowing full well he’d make use of the bed frame. All in good time.

She peeked into his closet, snorting lightly.

“Yes?” He countered, curious to see what she could possibly find to disapprove of in his wardrobe.

“So much black,” she murmured, fingers trailing over his collection of battle leathers.

Azriel crossed his arms, leaning against the side of the bed. “It’s practical.”

Cerys laughed brightly, planting a kiss on his cheek on her way to the bathroom. Her gasp echoed out of the room. “Wow! You really have a thing for bathtubs, don’t you?” She wasn’t wrong, the bathroom was easily the most indulgent room in the house. Azriel wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t love a good bath.

The tub, rather a loose term, was partially inside and partially out, split by a sliding glass door that protected the room from the elements. When the weather was good, or even when it wasn’t, he loved opening the room up and luxuriating in the tub outside. The view of the mountains was unparalleled.

Cerys crouched, dipping her fingers in the water. “Who would have thought you had such a penchant for luxury.” Azriel chuckled, shaking his head. “Just where bathtubs are concerned.”

He felt his heart kick into overdrive. He had something important to ask her and didn’t want to do it in the bathroom, despite how nice it was. “Come here, I want to show you something.”

She pulled out of her crouch, turning to follow him out of the room and up the final set of stairs. At the top was a trapdoor, opening straight into the ceiling. Azriel pushed it open, lifting himself through and turning to help Cerys up. The rooftop was his second favourite space in the house. It stuck out from the back of the home, invisible from the front. He had arranged several rocking chairs and a cozy fire pit, keen to make it a sort of haven after a long day.

Cerys glanced around, flopping down in one of the chairs. “Well, isn’t this curious.” He wrinkled his brow, confused. She giggled, motioning to the other chair. “Tell me this. If you’ve never had anyone here, why are there two chairs?”

Azriel blew out a laugh, sinking into the chair next to her. “A good question,” he paused, feeling his cheeks colour slightly. “It’s not that I _never_ wanted anyone to come here. I Just was waiting for the right one.” He looked over at Cerys slyly, knowing she was well aware at his attempts at flattering her.

She reached out and pinched his arm, smiling indulgently. “Good answer.”

Gathering himself, he turned in his chair to face her fully. “Cerys, there’s something I’d like to ask you.” Her face immediately went serious, fingers winding nervously around themselves. He reached forward, gathering her hands and stopping their movement.

“I have no desire to be parted from you, I don’t want to say goodbye everyday.” She nodded fervently, face equally as serious as his. “I know this is all fairly new to us, but I hope you know that my life changed completely when you accepted the bond. I don’t want to pretend otherwise.” He sucked in a breath, squeezing her fingers. “I was hoping you’d consider moving in with me, here.”

Her face was expressionless, prompting him to ramble on uncharacteristically. “I mean, only if you want to. If there’s anything you want to change, I can do that. New furniture, or paint, remodelling. The tub, even…” He was abruptly stopped as Cerys threw herself into his arms, peppering his face with kisses.

“Of course I’ll move in with you.” She laughed, pulling back to look into his face. “I’d be worried if you _didn’t_ want me to live here with you.” Her face grew serious once more. “My life changed completely too, you know. For the better. Infinitely better.”

He could do nothing but smile at her, like a lovesick fool. Which he was, of course

That evening, Cerys and Azriel walked up to the riverhouse hand in hand. Azriel was unbelievably tense, made worse by the anxiety he could feel radiating off Cerys’ body.

Reaching the door, he turned to her, hand moving up to brush against her jaw. “It’s going to be ok.” She nodded, leaning into his touch. “I promise. Tonight will be perfect.”

She pushed up on her toes, brushing her lips against his. “I know. It’s just… a big change in a month of big changes.” He knew what she meant, it was a lot to take in. He pressed one final kiss to her mouth before opening the door. They followed the sounds of voices into the front room.

Everyone stopped talking as they entered, heads swivelling their way. Azriel felt every muscle in his body immediately clench, preparing for attack. Gods, how could he have forgotten. The waves of fierce protectiveness started to overtake him, calling out to him to rip to shreds any male who so much as _looked_ at Cerys.

A sharp pinch drew his attention, he was startled to find he had been snarling quietly, arms pushing Cerys behind him. _“Azriel,”_ she whispered against the back of his neck, “it’s ok. You need to relax.”

With concerted effort, he softened his stance, focusing his attention solely on Cerys. From the corner of the room, he heard Cassian chuckle quietly. His blood immediately began to boil, the possessiveness back in full force.

Cassian ducked around Nesta, waltzing right up to them. Azriel continued to growl under his breath, eyes locked on his brother. Cassian’s face was relaxed but his stance betrayed his thoughts. He fully expected Azriel to attack, welcomed it even.

“Back so soon, brother?” Azriel took a half step forward, stopped by Cerys’ soft fingers on his arm, relaxing him slightly. Her voice came from behind him, directed at Cassian. “Is this _really_ the time to be antagonising him?”

Rhys suddenly appeared behind Cassian, placing his hands on his shoulders. “If you both tear my house apart, Feyre will rip you to shreds.” He chuckled, winking at Cerys.

Azriel forced a slow breath. He was better than this, he wasn’t about to let these primal urges master him. He nodded in greeting to Rhys, pulling Cerys close to him. His instincts immediately relaxed feeling her skin under his palm, hand winding up her shirt to the bare skin of her back.

Everyone else seemed to converge on them at once, offering their congratulations with smiles and kind words. Cerys melted under his hand, clearly relieved at their response.

Mor stood in the corner, wringing her hands. After everyone had moved off to hunt for drinks or bites to eat, she slowly made her way over. Azriel had no clue how she was going to react.

Once she reached them, she reached out a hand, clasping one of Cerys’ tightly. “I’m happy for you both, truly.” Cerys nodded, tight smile on her face. Azriel kept his hand firmly on her back, stroking gently with his thumb. He knew Mor’s reaction was what she was most nervous about. His too, if he was going to be honest.

Mor glanced over at him, face serious. “Az… could we speak for a moment?” She looked down at Cerys. “I mean, if it’s ok with you, of course.” Cerys quickly nodded, moving out from under his hand and towards the others.

“Of course. I’ll just be over here.” Her words and expression were friendly but Azriel could see the underlying tension, already being able to read the emotions she tried to keep off her face.

Mor watched her go, brow furrowed. Turning back to him, she gestured out towards the garden off to the side of the house. “Shall we?” He followed her out of the room, already hating being separated from Cerys.

Sitting down on one of the iron benches, Mor sighed, turning her face up to the sky. He sat down beside her cautiously, keeping a generous space between their bodies. Azriel studied her profile, realising it was no longer painful to look at her. That familiar heartbreak, the ever present lust for her, was gone completely. Wiped away.

She turned to face him, eyes damp. “I really am happy for you, Az. I don’t want you to think I’m not. Cauldron knows I love you both and you deserve every bit of love she has to give you.” Azriel watched her, expressionless. He didn’t know why she had brought him out here, away from Cerys.

She glanced down at her hands, brows drawing over her eyes. “That’s not what I wanted to tell you though…” She paused, eyes fixed on the ground. “I know it’s too late, it makes no difference, but you deserve to know.”

Azriel’s heart pounded, surely not… He edged away from her on the seat, feeling like he was betraying his mate sitting out here with Mor. He didn’t know what she was about to say, but he suddenly didn’t want to hear. “Mor, please don’t,” he said thickly.

Her eyes flashed up to his, mouth parting. “You have no idea what I’m about to say.” He pushed to his feet, backing away. “Mor. I love her. I love Cerys. The time for confessions is over. This is inappropriate.” His voice was firm. He meant it. No matter what Mor had to say, it would change nothing. His mate was his world, nothing she said could change that.

Mor stood and crossed the space towards him, palms wide in front of her. “ _No,_ Az, gods…” She blew out a breath, shaking her head. “I’m not trying to change that, _please,_ can you just listen?” Her voice was shaking, eyes glistening in the moonlight. “I’m asking you to listen as a friend. There’s something I need to tell you. Please.”

He studied her, noting how panicked she was growing. As much as he wanted to get back to Cerys, he could do that for his friend. Listen. After all, underneath all the tension and years of blind devotion on his part, they were friends at the core. He nodded slowly, moving to sit down again on the bench.

Mor followed, looking mollified. “Thank you,” she swallowed, hands once again wringing in her lap. “Okay. The thing is, there’s a reason why I couldn’t be with you, couldn’t love you like you deserved.” Her eyes were locked on his, wide and pleading. “The truth is, Az, I prefer women. When I settle down, I want it to be with a woman.” She scanned his face, expression solemn.

Azriel blew out a breath, stunned. His mind raced over the past 500 years, blindsided by Mor’s confession. He never pried into her personal life, respecting her boundaries to a fault, keeping his spying shadows away from her. He understood now, why she had always said she _couldn’t_ love him, not wouldn’t. The difference had never mattered to him, suddenly it was profound.

He noticed she was waiting, stock still, for his response. Leaning forward, he grasped her hands tightly in his. “Thank you for telling me, for trusting me enough to let me know.” She brushed a tear away, smiling shakily at him.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. It will always be something I regret.” Azriel nodded, squeezing her hands. His mind was still reeling, but he felt at peace. A thread woven through his life was finally being tied off. Did he wish Mor would’ve told him earlier so he could’ve begun to move on? Of course. But every decision had led them to this moment, to her embracing who she was. To him, hopelessly in love with his mate.

Pulling her up off the bench, he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tight. “I hope you find someone who makes you as happy as Cerys makes me. Please believe that.” He pulled back, smiling down at her. “I look forward to meeting her, when you do.”

Mor smiled brightly up at him, looking freer and brighter than she had in a very long time. She laughed, nudging him towards the door.

“Come on, I want to congratulate your mate properly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! I felt a bit burnt out after writing a chapter a day for a while, but feeling re-inspired and hoping to get the next chapter up soon! Thank you all so much for your sweet comments, really means a lot :)


	20. Twenty

Cerys stood in the corner attempting to chat to Feyre, but her traitorous eyes refused to stray from the doorway Azriel and Mor had left from. She knew she could trust him. She knew that he would never betray her. But this was _Mor,_ he had loved her relentlessly for nearly his entire life.

Insecurity swept over Cerys in a wave, threatening to drown her completely. Mating bond or not, how could she compete with 500 years of history?

Feyre laid a hand on her crossed arms, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Is anything the matter?” Her voice was soft, concern lighting her face.

Cerys swallowed, unsure how much to reveal to Feyre. She was beginning to see the female much like a sister, but felt ashamed at her worries, her insecurities.

“Yes, sorry. If you’ll excuse me, I need to check something.” Before she could see Feyre’s reaction to her cobbled together response, Cerys was through the door and up the stairs towards her room. She couldn’t stand there and wait for her mate to get back any longer.

Once she reached her room, she immediately strode to the window, pressing her hands against the glass. Through the fogged pane she could make out her reflection. She felt different than she did a week ago. Older, somehow, yet wilder than ever. Her eyes were dark, the violet hues standing out against her bloodless cheeks.

Cerys didn’t want to admit that she was panicking, didn’t want it to be clear how afraid she was that she would never measure up. Her breath came quicker, forehead now pressed against the frosted window.

Azriel was her mate, for gods sake. She needed to pull herself together. He had told her he loved her in so many ways, had been nothing but adoring and attentive. Maybe it was the bond speaking, a small part of her brain piped up. Maybe he wouldn’t have chosen her after all.

A small noise escaped her mouth. She knew she was being irrational, but couldn’t help but think of the _years_ Azriel had chosen Mor. Centuries of choosing to love her over finding happiness with someone else. What was so special about her?

Cerys turned from the window, sinking to the floor. She reached into herself, drawing on her magic, letting strands of darkness flow over her body. Everything had been so much lately. So much change, more than in all her years of captivity. She couldn’t take it.

She was scared, at the core of it. Scared at how vulnerable she had allowed herself to be with Azriel. Scared at how frightened she was that he’d change his mind. Scared she wasn’t enough. Would never be enough.

Darkness continued to envelope her, shielding her from the outside world. Fighting to control her breathing, she knew she couldn’t stay up here forever. She had to go back downstairs, feign normality. Face whatever consequences Mor and Azriel’s conversation had wrought.

Her shadows melted away, the room clearing. She pulled her head up, fingers wiping across her face. Azriel was standing in the doorway, watching her intently. Her breath caught, he looked startled to find her there, on the floor.

He was by her side in a few short steps, kneeling in front of her. Soft hands met her face, thumbs swiping under her eyes, weaving through her hair. “Cerys? What is it?”

She couldn’t bring herself to tell him. Didn’t want him to know of her insecurities, how certain she was that she could never be enough for him.

Easing her body away, she stood, leaving Azriel still kneeling. “How was Mor?” Her voice was quiet, resigned. Whatever he felt towards Mor, she could handle it.

His face was confused, eyebrows furrowing. “Mor? Fine… Is that why you’re upset?” He remained kneeling at her feet, face turned up towards her.

Cerys looked away, unable to bear his earnest expression. She sighed, if anything, she wanted honesty from him. “I… I know that it’s not easy. I don’t expect you to ignore your feelings just because of the bond.” Her eyes remained resolutely towards the window, fighting to keep her voice even.

“My feelings?” Azriel paused for a long moment, shifting on the ground. “Cerys, my feelings are only for you. Not Mor.” He stood up in one fluid movement, fingers turning her chin towards him. “I love you. I choose you. Every day, forever.” Her chin quivered, mind refusing to accept his words.

“How do you know it’s not just the bond telling you that?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, terrified to hear his response. She had to know, had to ask. No matter his response.

Azriel took a step closer, sliding his hand down to clasp the back of her neck. His face was open, unguarded. Love shone in his eyes so strongly she couldn’t keep his gaze. Pressing his nose near hers, he spoke against her lips, “I loved you long before the bond. I chose you and wanted you, mating bond or not.” He paused, voice growing thick. “I have never loved like I love you. _Never.”_

Cerys grew quiet, not wanting to start crying outright. Somehow, he knew just what to say to reassure her. “I love you too. I’m sorry… I think I just got jealous.” Her voice was small, feeling her cheeks heat unwillingly.

Azriel drew back slightly to look into her face. “Jealous?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Because I was talking to Mor?” He studied her face, waiting for her response.

Cerys ducked her chin, the blush moving up her face in earnest now. “I know it’s silly, but I can’t help comparing myself to her. You know,” she gestured down at her body, “We look nothing alike, and I know you only had eyes for her for a _very_ long time.”

Azriel tracked her hand’s movement down her body, a shadow of anger passing over his face. “You’re perfect. Every part of you,” His hands swept down to rest at her hips, fingers pressing in. “I think I showed you plenty _exactly_ how attracted I am to you.” His voice lowered, becoming rough, “I’d be happy to show you again, of course.”

Despite herself, she felt her blood stir. They had each other a hundred different ways over the past week, yet she wanted him still. A strangled noise left her throat as she joined their mouths together, feeling their teeth clack together in her haste.

Azriel wasted no time, gripping her curls in one hand and sweeping the other down under her, pulling her up to sit on the window ledge. Her legs wound around his waist, pulling him closer.

Abruptly, she felt his shadows clasp each wrist, pinning them to sit either side of her hips on the ledge. Azriel pulled back, fingers working to unbutton her shirt and slide it from her shoulders. “I love every part of you,” he murmured, kissing down her neck. “Your hair, how wild it is. Untameable.” His fingers tightened where they were buried in her curls, prompting a low moan to escape her.

“Your neck, the skin here…” he licked and sucked down her throat, as she shivered beneath him. “How you love it when I mark you.” His voice was muffled against her skin, barely discernible under her loud breathing. His hand in her hair moved around her face, light fingertips brushing against her cheeks, her lips.

Two fingers pressed against her bottom lip, slid into her mouth. She sucked instinctively. Azriel chuckled, “You _know_ I love your mouth. Your talented, sinful mouth.” She swirled her tongue around his fingertips as he pulled them away, continuing his descent down her torso.

One hand weighed her breast, squeezing and rolling her nipple. She gasped, arching her back in response. He leaned down, flicking his tongue over the tip. “Cerys… look at me.”

She looked down, meeting his gaze as her nipple slid under his tongue. Squirming, she pressed herself into his mouth, the sensations too much. He squeezed her breast harder, “I don’t need to tell you my feelings about these. They’re perfect.” He kept his eyes locked on her, nipping gently on her skin.

“They’re small,” she whispered, flinching with pleasure as he sucked a mark on the underside of her breast. “They’re perfect,” he replied, eyelashes dark against his skin, focus entirely on her.

He stood upright, removing her trousers and underpants in one swift movement, leaving her bare on the ledge. Azriel took a step back, spreading her legs with gently palms on her thighs. She struggled to meet his dark eyes, waves of desire demanding he take her _now._

His eyes travelled downwards, resting between her open thighs. He swallowed, gaze unfathomable. Still fully clothed in front of her, his chest heaved with the effort of taking his time with her. She spread her legs further, beckoning him in.

“Azriel, please. I need you.” Her voice was breathy with want, unable to bear him so far away, so clothed.

He dropped to his knees, throwing one leg over his shoulder, his mouth on her before she could fully register what he was doing. His tongue was hot on her, sliding against her and rolling over her clit. Cerys cried out, straining against her trapped hands.

Azriel pulled back, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. “How sweet you taste. So wet for me,” he murmured against her skin, voice velvety soft. Moving back, his tongue pressed deep inside her.

Cerys couldn’t take it, the pleasure was all consuming, she needed him inside her. “Azriel, I want you inside me. Enough playing.” She mustered every inch of demand she could into her words, knowing how he loved to tease her. To her surprise, Azriel stood immediately, bringing his mouth to hers in a heated kiss. She moaned, tasting herself on him.

His clothes were gone in an instant, releasing her hands along with it. Both palms slid under her thighs, opening her wide. Both of them gasped as he entered, sliding in and in until their hips met.

Azriel stilled, holding her close. “I love you, every part of you,” he whispered against her ear, hips beginning to move in and out.

Cerys struggled to focus on his words, her mind locked on the pressure building in her from the unrelenting pace he set. “I… I love you too,” she managed, throwing her head back. “ _Gods”_ she murmured, “You feel so good.”

His pace increased, hand moving up to tug at her nipples. “Tell me, tell me what you like.” She moaned, hands gripping his hair, sliding her mouth against his firm chest, tasting the saltiness of his sweat.

He paused, hips stilling. “Tell me, Cerys.” She pushed her herself against him, wanting to him to move again, craving the slide of his cock. Azriel chuckled, hands holding her still against him.

Pulling out unbearably slowly, he paused with the tip of his cock resting against her. His lips met her ear, “I want to know what feels good.” He pushed in, barely more than an inch. She moaned, quickly complying.

“I love your cock in me, you feel _so_ good.” He huffed against her, pushing all the way in and pausing, waiting for her to talk more. “I like when you’re rough with me, I like the sounds you make.” His chest rumbled, hands shifting to gather her wrists, forcing her back to arch.

“I want you inside me every moment. I…” She panted, stalling as he began his relentless pace again, “I _need_ you Azriel, only you.” He growled, one hand releasing her wrists to slide between her legs, pinching and rolling her clit.

She gasped and whimpered, feeling her climax coming on strong. “I love it when you come for me, love feeling you inside me,” his body shook against her, her head bouncing off the window behind her.

“That’s it,” she moaned, feeling her body tense up as release barrelled towards her. “You’re mine, come for _me.”_ His fingers gripped her hips vicelike as his climax came over him, dragging her with him. They shuddered together, her teeth sinking into his shoulder to stop herself from screaming.

“ _Fuck,_ Cerys,” he mumbled against her skin, arms wrapping around her. “I’ll never grow tired of this.” She laughed breathlessly, wholeheartedly agreeing.

They rested for a few moments, content in each others arms. Minutes later, Azriel pulled back. “Oh… I forgot to tell you. Everyone’s going to Rita’s, I came up here to get you.”

Cerys felt her eyes go wide, sliding out of his embrace. “What? Now they’re all just waiting for us?”

He laughed, nodding. “Don’t worry, they’re fine.”

She quickly made her way to the bathroom, fingers flying through her curls. “I have to get ready! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she grumbled, splashing water on her face. Azriel slowly dressed, content to watch her from the bedroom.

“Can you grab me something to wear? I don’t care what.” She paused, looking over at him. “I’ve never been to Rita’s, actually.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrow. “You’ll like it, I hope.”

_____________________________________________________________

Azriel stood, arms crossed, surveying Cerys’ wardrobe. There was too many choices, he sighed, rifling through the collection of dresses.

His fingers stilled over a short, velvet number. It was an inky dark blue, long sleeved with a plunging back. He spun it round to examine the back. It would show off her ass nicely, he thought. Perfect.

“How’s this?” He brought the dress into the bathroom. Cerys paused in detangling her hair, looking over the clothes he brought in. Her eyes flashed up to his, humour brightening her expression.

“Wonder why you chose that one.” She grabbed it out of his hands, wiggling it on. Her hands smoothed down her body, pulling the dress to rest snugly against her hips. She spun in the mirror, examining the back. “This _would_ be something you’d choose.”

Azriel chuckled, enjoying the view. “Do you need me to grab you underthings?”

Cerys moved towards the door, sliding on a pair of heels. “Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’. He groaned, massaging his temples.

“You’re going to be the death of me, truly.”

*

Everyone was already downstairs, waiting by the door. Rhys noticed them first, raising his eyebrow.

“Took you long enough.” His nose crinkled, shooting Azriel a glare. “Ugh. _Really?”_ Azriel shrugged, helping Cerys into her coat. She had turned a brilliant red, refusing to meet her brother’s eyes.

They all trooped out of the house, making their way to Rita’s. It was a beautiful night, crisp and cold but the stars shone brightly overhead. Velaris was lit up, laughter ringing in the streets as everyone enjoyed the calm winter night.

“Do you like dancing?” Cerys murmured from beside him, tucked firmly under his arm.

“Sometimes, yes.” He replied, thinking back to countless nights at Rita’s spent doing just that. “There was a time when we’d be there nearly every night, dancing, drinking, whatnot.”

She glanced up, “With Mor?”

He paused, not wanting to spark her worry. “Yes, Cassian too. Rhys sometimes as well.” Cerys nodded, pushing closer to him. He had spent more than his fair share of nights there looking for someone to spend the evening with, but he wasn’t sure she would want to know that part of it. The times when he was doing worst in his life was usually when he spent the most nights at Rita’s, looking for a distraction in alcohol or females. Usually both.

They reached Rita’s at last, shrugging out of cloaks and piling into the warm room, already overfilling with writhing bodies. Cerys perked up immediately, hips beginning to sway to the beat.

He clasped her hand, not wanting to break contact with her for a second. “You like to dance then, I gather.” She nodded, turning to move against him.

They made their way around the room, dancing and laughing, chatting to the others. Azriel was happy to be here, happy to be with his friends and have his mate by his side. Cerys seemed to be enjoying herself, she was constantly on the move. Dancing to the music, sliding her body against his. He definitely wasn’t complaining.

“I’ll go get us a drink,” He had to bend down for her to hear him, sliding his hand against her neck. She nodded, smiling brightly up at him, leaning up to press a kiss to his mouth before he headed in the direction of the bar.

Azriel sighed, waiting to order. Rita’s was busier than it had been in a while, he recognised a few faces milling around the bar. His eyes watched Cerys fondly, she was chatting to Rhys about something, hands flying around animatedly.

He felt a tap on his elbow, fingers sliding up to curl around his bicep. He glanced down, meeting the eyes of the female now pressed against his side. Lisette.

He loathed to admit it, but Lisette was a mistake he had indulged in perhaps one time too many. The female looked up at him beguilingly, deep green eyes boring into his. She looked just as she always had, rich chestnut hair nearly the same colour as her skin. Taller than Cerys by a good measure, she was clothed in a tight dress designed to show off her ample assets.

“Azriel,” she murmured, squeezing his arm. “It’s been ages.” He took a step back, unwinding his arm from her grasp.

“Yes, it has been.” He looked over her head, scanning the room for Cerys. Lisette looked over her shoulder, following his gaze.

“Looking for someone?” She raised an eyebrow, hand reaching towards him again. Azriel stopped her before she could make contact with his chest, fingers curling around her wrist. She chuckled, turning her chin to look up at him.

“Ah, yes. I remember how you liked to _restrain.”_ Her voice was low, not moving her wrist from his grasp. He dropped her hand like he’d been burned, taking a further step back.

“Lisette, I’m here with my mate.” Her face dropped, expression incredulous. “Mate?” She scoffed, “I wasn’t expecting that.” She leaned against the bar, looking him up and down. “Lucky female.”

Cerys appeared in the crowd then, moving towards him. He locked eyes with her, reaching a hand out. Lisette turned, looking Cerys over with obvious interest.

Cerys slowed as she reached them, glancing between him and Lisette. He quickly tucked her into his side, waving a hand towards Lisette. “Cerys, this is Lisette. An old friend.”

Lisette held out a hand, flipping her long hair over one shoulder. She chuckled, winking at Azriel. “Friend, yes. It’s a pleasure.”

Cerys stiffened beside him, barely touching Lisette’s hand in greeting before laying her palm against his chest possessively. Azriel cleared his throat, tucking his fingers beneath Cerys’ dress, along her bare back.

“This is Cerys, my mate.” Cerys didn’t say a word, shooting daggers at the other female. Her meaning was clear, she didn’t like the way Lisette was looking at him. Lisette clearly picked up on her feelings, gathering her drink and taking a step back.

“I’ll leave you two now. Azriel, lovely to see you as always.” She smiled in Cerys’ direction, sickly sweet. They watched her leave in silence.

Cerys spun round, out of his grasp. “Isn’t she lovely.” Her face was flat, arms curled around herself. “Can I expect a lot of that here? Meeting former… trysts?”

He reached towards her, desperate to touch her skin. “Lisette was a mistake. It was a long time ago.” Cerys huffed, allowing him to pull her close.

“I don’t like it, this feeling of wanting to rip to shreds anyone who looks at you,” she mumbled against his chest, pressing her body tight to him. He sighed against her hair, skating his fingers down her spine.

“I know. I’m sorry you had to meet her.” He paused, tangling his fingers in her curls, “although, I like seeing you get a little bit possessive.”

Cerys snorted, leaning back to meet his eyes. “A little? I was moments from ripping her smug smile straight off her face.” Her expression grew dark, “I don’t like that she knows you like I do. Physically.”

He stroked her cheek, trying to pour out every bit of love he could into the gesture. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But, if it makes you feel any better,” he leaned down, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “It’s never been as good as it is with you, with anyone.” He dug his fingers into her hair, pulling at the roots. She shifted against him.

“I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you. All the time, constantly. It’s all I can think about.”

She pulled back, whetting her lips. “Even right now?”

He pulled her closer still, hand sliding down to cup her ass possessively. He felt himself growing hard against her, “ _Especially_ now.”

Cerys grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door. He laughed at her haste, allowing her to drag him along.

“Come on. It’s time to go home.” He wholeheartedly agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter, love me a bit of jealous Cerys! Special thanks to QueenAmydien for the idea of sending them to Rita's!


	21. Twenty one

**TW: mild torture scene involving a knife**

**_____________________________________________________________**

She loved being here. Here being Azriel’s house with his arms banded tight around her, specifically. Her body was boneless against him, feeling relaxed and sated after last night’s activities.

Admittedly, she had felt nearly consumed with jealousy when she saw one of Azriel’s former lovers draped over him so familiarly. She knew she too had taken lovers, usually for brief trysts, but her mind couldn’t settle with the fact he had been with other females too. He was _hers._

Cerys sighed, burying her head against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. Maybe it was the new mating bond between them, but they were ravenous. She couldn’t get enough of him, didn’t think she ever would. Tilting her head up, she examined his sleeping features.

She had always thought he was beautiful, the elegant planes of his face meeting a soft mouth and long, boyish eyelashes. The more she got to know him, the more she saw that he was more than just a beautiful face. He was kind and attentive towards her, sensing her moods and needs before she knew them herself. She was unimaginably lucky.

Cerys shifted, drawing her leg up around his hips, pressing herself against him. Azriel let out a soft noise, rolling under her to pull her fully on top of him.

“Morning,” he mumbled against her neck, her skin erupting in shivers at his deep morning voice. The clouds shifted, casting a bright streak of sun to run across his chest, lighting up the scars peppering his skin. She traced them with her fingers, the heat of his skin seeping through her fingertips. Her hand skated over his ribs, tracing lightly.

Azriel suddenly shuddered, trapping her hand against his skin. She looked up questioningly, noticing his lips pressed together, a vaguely pained look on his face.

“Are you ok?” She asked, concerned. He blew out a laugh, drawing her hand up to rest against his muscled chest again.

“Yes… just ticklish.” A blush crept across his cheeks as she laughed at his confession, delighted to find a weakness she could so easily exploit. Quick as a whip, she moved to straddle him, using her own shadows to trap his wrists to the bed. Her fingers immediately started digging at his ribs mercilessly.

Azriel _squealed_ , there was no other word for it, trying to throw her off him to no avail. She laughed, pressing against him harder. He was panting now, laughter spilling out of him uncontrollably. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him so unhinged and she absolutely delighted in it, trailing her fingers over him and making him squirm.

Shifting back, her focus quickly changed, finding him hard beneath her. “Didn’t realise you liked being tickled so much,” she giggled, shifting to rub herself against him. Azriel started breathing heavily for a different reason, hips rising to push against her.

“The fact you’re naked on top of me has nothing to do with it, of course,” he forced out, straining against where she had trapped his wrists. Cerys chuckled, ceasing her tickling to scrape her nails down his chest, sliding herself over him. She had never been so grateful they didn’t redress after last night’s activities.

Azriel looked up at her, gaze lidded. “Are you going to unbind me?” She cocked her head, considering. She _did_ rather like the view of him prone beneath her.

“Do you want me to?” He dropped his head back to the mattress, testing his bonds.

“Not necessarily… I’ve never been the one tied up, admittedly.” He let out a breath, tilting his hips. Cerys bit back a gasp as he slid through her gathering wetness. She reached down, running her hand over him. She was more than ready to get him inside of her. Raising herself up on her knees, she took him firmly in her hand, sliding him around her entrance.

Azriel groaned, arms straining against the bonds. “Cerys…” his voice was low, skating across her skin. She slowly sank down, relishing in the stretch and pull as she eased him inside her. They let out matching groans as their hips met. She stilled, focused entirely on the feeling of him.

Azriel was less patient, pushing his hips up to push deeper into her. She chuckled, resting her hands on his chest, beginning to move on him torturously slow. Planting her hands firmly on him, she let her head fall back, luxuriating in the slide of him in and out of her. “Gods, you feel so good,” she murmured, picking up the pace.

She wouldn’t last long in this position, his impressive length pushed against her right where she needed him. Her breath coming in gasps, she rode him harder, chasing her high. Azriel panted beneath her, chest beaded with sweat. “Cerys,” he ground out, “Untie me.”

She released his arms, gasping in surprise when his hands met her hips, hauling her off him. “Turn the other way,” he ordered, spinning her around and pulling her hips back to his. She sank down on him again with a groan, the angle mind blowingly deep from this angle.

Leaning forward, she planted her hands either side of his legs and slid herself up and down on him in earnest, feeling everything from this position. Azriel’s hands moved to smack her ass sharply, smoothing the hurt with his palm before doing it again. Each slap echoed in her clit, causing her to cry out and beg him to move her faster. One hand reached to grab her curls as she moved, pulling her head and arching her back for him.

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” he grunted, fingers digging into her hips. “Unbelievable.”

She was about to break, slamming herself down on him. Azriel’s hand pulled her hair harder, urging her on. She broke with a cry, nearly screaming as she felt him spill inside her. Her legs collapsed as she rolled off him onto her side, breathing hard. Azriel lay flat beside her, hand moving to cup her ass.

She giggled, pressing her face against the bed. “You just can’t resist, can you.” He chuckled in reply, giving her ass a teasing squeeze.

“You know my thoughts about this part of you.” She laughed against the bed, letting her body relax. Her legs were shaking with exertion and the aftershocks of her orgasm. Sighing with contentment, she nestled further into the bed, feeling completely relaxed.

*

Hours later they were dressed and picking at breakfast, Cerys putting away bits and bobs in between bites. “I love your house,” she mumbled around her toast, sliding a book into place beside one of his.

He looked up, spoon hovering in midair. “It’s not just my house, anymore.” He smiled, shooting her a wink. Her heart clenched, breath catching with the love she felt for him.

Finishing his food, Azriel sat back and sighed, eyes meeting hers. “There’s something we need to do today. It won’t be pleasant, but it needs done. Her eyebrows drew together, confused.

“We need to go to the Hewn City. It’s time to pay Maja a visit.”

_____________________________________________________________

Azriel was looking forward to this visit as little as Cerys was, mind occupied with worry over how his mate would handle seeing her former guardian as a prisoner. How she would cope with the fact Maja was imprisoned for kidnapping her.

Cerys was silent on their way over the the Court of Nightmares, her face set in an inscrutable mask. They were dressed in matching black leathers, her hair braided tightly to her head. Truth Teller was strapped to his thigh, he wanted it accessible in case Maja tried anything threatening.

Pausing outside the gates, he tucked an errant curl behind her ear, fighting the protective side of him from sweeping her into the air and taking her far away from this place.

“Are you sure you’re ok seeing Maja today? We can go another time if you’d rather do that.” She shook her head firmly, eyes leaving his to sweep over the treetops. Her jaw was set firmly, stance wide. He admired her bravery.

“No. It needs to be today.” She blew out a breath, meeting his eyes. Her mask slipped slightly, betraying how scared she was. “Can you shield us with shadows when we go in? I don’t particularly want to see Keir.” Her eyebrows drew further together. “Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Azriel took her hand, nodding encouragingly. “Of course. I was planning on doing that, anyways.” He summoned his shadows, wreathing them in darkness. They could see each other with ease but he knew they’d be invisible to anyone else. Cerys relaxed visibly against him.

“I’m ready.”

They made their way through the corridors and cavernous rooms together, cloaked in deep shadow. Cerys hand grew damp in his, her body tensed for a fight. He murmured encouraging words to her as they walked, stroking his thumb across the back of her hand.

Maja was in a cell deep within the Hewn City, far from any light getting in. Azriel pushed open the grate leading to it, letting Cerys take in the sight of Maja slumped on a tatty bed before he withdrew his shadows.

The weeks in captivity had taken a toll on Maja, her body becoming even more bony and jutting, her hair falling lank to her waist. Her eyes hadn’t lost that defiance, staring into the shadows with fiery anger. Azriel usually appeared to her this way, straight from the darkness. She’d be surprised to see Cerys with him, no doubt. Azriel unsheathed Truth Teller, unsure how she was going to react and wanting to be ready to protect Cerys if necessary.

He reached out, tapping against Cerys’ mental shields. Feeling her open to him, he spoke into her mind, _“Are you ready for her to see you?”_

 _“Yes… I think so.”_ Her fingers tightened around his painfully before letting go, steeling herself. Azriel rolled back the shadows, revealing their presence to Maja. Immediately, Maja rose to her feet, snarling at them menacingly.

“ _You,”_ she whispered, eyes locked on Cerys. “Ungrateful, insolent girl. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Cerys stilled beside him, he felt waves on anxiety down their bond. She remained silent, eyes roving over Maja. They stared at each other, the air thick and volatile. Azriel tensed, ready for either of them to erupt at any moment.

Maja launched herself at Cerys with shriek, spitting and clawing at the air. Azriel had her on the ground in a moment, Truth Teller’s sharp blade pressed against her throat.

“Not another move,” he growled, pushing the blade against her neck, watching a single drop of blood bead against the unforgiving metal.

Maja’s eyes rolled up to meet his, pure hatred in her gaze. He removed his blade, hauling her into the waiting chair, securing her firmly to it with his shadows. Satisfied she was sufficiently restrained, he moved back to Cerys’ side. She hadn’t moved an inched, muscles frozen in place.

“Glad to see you haven’t gained a rein on your temper, Maja.” Cerys’ voice was low, deadly. Azriel was once again reminded that she was the High Lord’s sister and bearer of immense power in her own right.

Darkness seeped from Cerys hands, flowing down to pool on the ground. The air pulsed with her restrained rage, Maja trembled slightly, eyes meeting Cerys’.

“How _dare_ you. How dare you take me from my family. Spin lies, all these years. Making me believe you cared for me.” Still, her voice was barely over a whisper. She recognised the power in keeping control of herself, refusing to let her anger lash out and flare violently.

Cerys took measured steps towards Maja, gaze never wavering from Maja’s. Azriel felt slender fingers touch his wrist as she moved, sliding down to clasp around the hilt of Truth Teller still resting in his palm. He released in into her hand, watching as she twisted it behind her back.

If she wanted to kill Maja, that was her prerogative. Azriel wouldn’t stop her. In all honesty, he would probably enjoy watching.

She stopped toe to toe with Maja, hand lashing out to run the blade up her thigh, a line of red appearing in its wake. Maja gritted her teeth, leaning back in her seat away from Cerys. Unperturbed, Cerys leaned forward until they were nearly nose to nose.

“You _will_ tell me who hired you, all those years ago.” Azriel had never heard Cerys take that tone before, threatening and powerful. He fought back a shudder, unwilling to admit he liked the sight of her with his blade in her hand a little _too_ much.

She pressed the blade against Maja’s ribs, hard enough that Maja grunted with pain. Red bloomed around where Cerys had the knife digging in.

“Now. Or else I’ll slide this knife right between your ribs.” She pressed harder, twisting it against Maja’s skin. “I’ve asked Azriel not to torture you, not to hurt you irreparably. I’ve told myself no such thing.”

Maja whimpered, breaking at last. She nodded her head frantically, “I’ll talk, I’ll talk, please.” Azriel nodded, impressed. Maja had been a pain in his ass lately and he was grateful she finally seemed willing to tell them something useful.

Relenting on the knife’s pressure slightly, Cerys grunted, gesturing for Maja to continue. “Tell me who hired you.”

Maja swallowed, closing her eyes. “When you were taken, you have to understand. It was a different world. Volatile.”

Cerys moved away, leaning against the wall and playing with Truth Teller between her fingers, expertly moving the blade from hand to hand. Azriel hoped she’d bring that particular trick home with them later. Forcing his attention away from the tempting form of his mate, he focused back on Maja.

“Jakub and I were are from the Spring Court, as I’m sure you’ve worked out.” Azriel nodded, filing that information away. “We didn’t have much, I was a hired sword and Jakub a cobbler. Not much money in either of those.” She sighed, shifting in her chair. “Arthek was a difficult High Lord, preoccupied with war and controlling the humans so close to him. He didn’t have much time for the welfare of his people.”

Azriel studied her, searching for inconsistencies in her story. Arthek had been Tamlin’s father, High Lord before him. So far, her story checked out.

Maja continued, “I was working as a sentry for Arthek, making my way up his ranks. Our life was hard, we barely had enough food to feed the two of us, let alone a family.” Her lips pressed together, eyes falling to her lap. “I fell pregnant with Danuta and knew I couldn’t work as a sentry with her growing in me. It would be too dangerous. Unfortunately, most of our money came from my work, very little came from Jakub’s.”

Cerys hadn’t moved from her position on the wall, watching Maja like a hawk. Her expression betrayed nothing, only the bond between them showing the anxiety coursing through her body.

“I approached Arthek when it became obvious I was pregnant, begging for a job within the household where I would not be putting Danuta in danger. He refused.” Her voice lowered, became thick with emotion. “It was then he told me he had a different job I could do, one that paid beyond our wildest dreams. We couldn’t pass it up.”

Her eyes shifted to Cerys’, pleading and contrite. “He told us that the Night Court must fall, for the good of our Court and Prythian.” She paused, drawing a deep breath. “He told me that I was to become the warden of their youngest daughter. He didn’t tell me how or why they were going to take you, Cerys, just where Jakub and I had to meet them. I… I didn’t like it. Taking a child away.”

She shuddered out a breath, tears dripping from her eyes. “Arthrek told me that I could take this job or he would kill Jakub and rip the unborn child from my womb.” She choked, tears falling in earnest. “He told me they could keep me alive as they did it, keep me alive after they slaughtered my family so I would always live with the pain of knowing it was my fault. _My_ cowardice having killed them. I couldn’t say no, so I took you. Stole you away and kept you from home. Lied to you about your family.”

Maja’s features were screwed up in agony as she recounted her story, eyes tracing Cerys’ features. “I am not sorry for what I did, I would do it again, to protect Danuta and Jakub.” She sighed, looking down at her lap once again. “I am sorry that you were caught in it Cerys. Truly, I never harboured hatred for you, never felt you deserved it.”

Cerys let out a low breath, shifting against the wall. She nodded curly, striding to Azriel. “Release her bonds,” she said quietly, fingers clasping his. She began tugging him towards the door, avoiding Maja’s gaze.

Pausing at the threshold, she opened her mouth, keeping her back to Maja. “Thank you for telling me. We will be back soon.” With her final words, she hauled Azriel out of the cell, door clanging shut behind them.

Out of Maja’s sight, her shoulders began shaking, breath coming in pants. Azriel had his arms around her in an instant, holding her tight to his chest, absorbing her tears.

“I had no idea,” she mumbled against him, burying her head closer to him. “What do I do, Azriel?” She lifted her face towards him, tears shining on her cheeks. “I understand why she did it, but she still played a part in kidnapping me. Kept me away for _centuries,_ even after Arthrek died.”

Azriel nodded, swiping her tears away with his thumbs. He sighed, mind spinning. “You don’t need to make this decision alone. Talk to Rhys about it, talk to me. You’re not alone, Cerys. You’ll never be alone again.”

Her features softened, body moulding with his. “Thank you, you’re right.” She leaned up, pressing her lips against his cheek. “Can we go back home, please?”

He nodded against the crown of her head, wreathing them in shadow once more.They didn’t need to figure everything out this second, she had been unbelievable strong today. His strong, powerful mate. Pulling his shadows close, he tucked her under his arm protectively, keen to get out of the Hewn City as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, and apologies for the delay!! Hope everyone likes this new chapter. Can't believe we're *almost* a week off from ACOSF too, I am super super excited!


	22. Twenty two

The next few days passed in a blur of long meetings and late nights, Cerys and Azriel barely had enough time to speak to one another amidst the turmoil. Rhysand had not liked what they reported back from Maja. He did not like it one bit.

It had taken Cassian and Azriel working together to keep him at the House of Wind when they shared the news, keep him firmly in Velaris and not winnowing away to confront Tamlin. They all knew Rhys wouldn’t hesitate, Tamlin would be dead in an instant.

Surprisingly, Feyre had been the most vocal against confronting Tamlin right away. She was mad at him, of course, distraught with her mate’s anguish and what Cerys had been through, but it wasn’t the right time. It would be best if they gathered all the information first, figured out _who_ was behind the mess, what part Tamlin had played. Rhys had eventually agreed, much to everyone’s relief. A Prythian-wide dispute was the last thing they needed at the moment.

Cerys had remained curled up in a squashy chair for most of the talks, watching Rhys rage and storm at Tamlin dispassionately. Azriel couldn’t get a read on her, couldn’t see past the smooth mask she wore.

After she had broken down in his arms at the Hewn City they had gone back to their house. They had taken a long bath together, Azriel washing Cerys’ hair for her, combing through the long tangled curls until she had all but fallen asleep in his arms. They had curled up in bed after, sleeping for hours wrapped around each other. When Cerys had awoken early this morning her face was already set in the cool mask, informing Azriel that it was time to tell Rhys what they had learned.

He was concerned for her, very concerned. He recognised the signs of shock, the careful detachment, her preternaturally still body. He needed to get her out of here.

“ _Enough.”_

Rhys paused in his rant, looking over at Azriel incredulously. He wasn’t normally one to interrupt.

“I’m taking Cerys away from here. This is about more than you, Rhysand.” Rhys’ eyes shifted to his little sister, staring blankly out the window into the thick fog obscuring Velaris. He sighed, nodding. Azriel watched his throat bob, his expression filling with worry for Cerys.

Rhys walked over to her, crouching in front of her chair and gathering her hands in his, rubbing his palms briskly over her stiff fingers. “I am sorry, Cerys. I know this is difficult.”

She shifted slightly, looking towards him. Her mask cracked enough to show a hint of sadness, enough to propel Azriel towards her. He stood behind her chair, gathering her hair in his hands, running his scarred fingers through the individual curls. She made a quiet noise in the back of her throat, tilting her head back to rest against his palms.

Rhys’ eyes flicked up from where he kneeled before Cerys, looking at Azriel gratefully. Azriel felt a familiar brush of night darkened wind on his shields,

_“I don’t know what to do for her. She won’t let me into her head.”_

Azriel paused, reaching up to smooth Cerys’ hair at her crown. Her eyes drifted shut, letting the weight of her head rest fully against him.

_“She needs time. It was… a lot, at the Hewn City. Maja was her mother figure for most of her life, after all. Let me take her to my house in Illyria for a few days. There’s someone I want her to meet.”_

Rhys’ brows contracted for a moment over his eyes before they smoothed out, understanding his meaning. He nodded slightly to Azriel, his presence leaving his mind abruptly. He stood with a sigh, leaning down to touch his finger against Cerys’ cheek. Her eyes slowly opened to stare up at him.

“You’re leaving Velaris for a few days with your mate - is that ok?” Azriel couldn’t help the burst in his chest when Rhys called him that. Not Azriel, not Az, not shadowsinger. Cerys’ mate.

She nodded, a smile pulling at her lips for the first time today. She cleared her throat, “Yes. I’d like that.”

Rhys nodded once, looking over her head towards Feyre. Azriel recognised the vacant glaze his eyes took on as they spoke mind to mind. After a moment, he looked back at Azriel. “We’ll leave you to it. If you need to reach me, you know how to find me.” He looked once more at Cerys, brushing his finger against her cheek again.

“Same goes for you, little sister.” He leaned down, whispering something in her ear. Cerys let out an abrupt laugh, the sound warming Azriel from the inside out. Rhys chuckled too, walking towards the door with a backwards wave, Feyre trailing behind.

Azriel moved to crouch in front of her, surprised when she wound her fingers in his hair, pulling his face to hers. Her mouth fell on his for a moment, both of them relishing in the contact.

“Hey! I’m still here, you know,” Cassian said grumpily, appearing in Azriel’s peripheral vision. He pulled his mouth away from Cerys’ reluctantly.

“Then get out.” Cassian rolled his eyes, following Rhys’ footsteps for the door. “Never one to mince words, brother.” Azriel allowed himself a smile, keeping his eyes on Cerys.

“Shall we?” She nodded and he scooped her into his arms, his heart clenching as she curled herself into him, tucking her head under his chin. Her familiar sweet amber scent mixed with the woody scent of shampoo surrounded him. He walked them off the balcony and into the air, sight set on Illyria.

_____________________________________________________________

The brisk air as they flew helped ease some of the numbness that had settled over Cerys like a heavy blanket. She didn’t know how to feel about Maja’s story, didn’t _want_ to feel anything, not right now. She wanted to curl into Azriel forever, sink through his leathers and meld their souls together. Didn’t want any thoughts that weren’t of him.

It wasn’t practical, she couldn’t hide away with him forever. Cerys knew full well burying her head in the sand wasn’t a practical way of dealing with things, yet she couldn’t help but seize on the opportunity to escape reality with him, even if it was only for a few days.

They arrived to Azriel’s cabin in Illyria just as the sun was setting, the deep golden light turning the small lake molten. He deposited her gently in one of the rocking chairs on the dock, heading into the house to find blankets and tea.

Moments later a warm mug was pressed into her hands, a rough, homespun blanket wrapped around her. Cerys examined the brightly coloured woven threads, tracing her fingers over the craftsmanship. It was beautiful, someone obviously had spent a lot of time making it.

The swirling colours reminded her of the wall of marriage tapestries on their island home. Her heart clenched painfully at the reminder of all she had lost, her head unwillingly clearing the fog of detachment for a moment, reality cresting over her cold and sharp. She missed her mother, missed the future she might of had. It was a silly thing, to mourn a _tapestry_ for gods sake. But here she was.

She felt a gently fingertip on her cheek, suddenly aware of the tears sliding down her face. Clearing her throat, she scrubbed roughly at them, forcing a deep, shuddering breath into her lungs. It would do her no good to focus on what could have been.

Azriel was seated beside her, his own mug in one hand. The love and care shining on his normally cold face took her breath away. Warmth looked good on him.

“There’s someone I want you to meet… tomorrow, if you feel up to it. It’s not far from here.” His eyes were earnest, a ray of hope lighting his face. She nodded, anything to keep that hope on his face.

“Who?”

He smiled slightly, shaking his head. “It’s a surprise. They’re not someone many people know about. You’ll be one of the trusted few.” Cerys grumbled, shifting in her seat. Typical Azriel with his veiled words and subtle hints.

“Fine, fine. I’ll keep my questions to myself.” He smiled deeper, bringing his mug to his face and inhaling the steam. She liked seeing him here, comfortable and at home. She felt the same.

*

The next morning dawned clear and cold, a brisk wind chasing the last of the fluffy clouds across the sky. Cerys woke first, rolling over to watch Azriel’s sleeping face. She loved his face while he was sleeping, fully relaxed and unguarded, his elegant features boyish with his hair a mess around him. His lips parted, mumbling a few words in his sleep.

Cerys felt far better than yesterday, the change of scenery doing her well. She wasn’t quite ready to examine the Maja debacle, but she felt more awake. Happier.

Azriel’s eyes slowly opened, blinking against the brightness in the room. His eyes locked with hers, the new sunlight bringing out the flecks of green and gold. He smiled sleepily, pressing his nose against where her shoulder met her neck, his breath warm on her bare skin.

“I’m excited for today,” he murmured against her skin, voice low and gravely with sleep. She buried her hands into his hair, tilting his head back to meet her eyes.

“Care to tell me who we are meeting?” He shook his head, eyes bright and playful.

“No, I don’t think I will. Better if it’s a surprise.” She rolled her eyes, turning over to stare at the ceiling, pushing out her lower lip. Azriel laughed insufferably, rolling over to lay on top of her. His hand reached up to brush against her jaw, down her throat. She felt a shiver run down her spine at the contact, it had barely been a day since he was last inside her but it was still too long.

He chuckled, sensing the direction of her thoughts. Rough fingers skated over her collarbone, down to brush against her nipple, peaked through the worn old shirt of his she was wearing.

“Doesn’t take much, does it, Cerys?” She huffed, well aware of her body’s instant reaction to him. She rolled on her side, draping a leg over his hip, pulling him close.

“I could say the same for you,” she said against his lips, already feeling him hard against her. He chuckled, rolling his hips closer. Cauldron, would she ever stop wanting him _all_ the time?

Their hands roved over each other’s bodies, pulling off clothes and sliding against bare skin. The air was warm and hazy with early morning sun, dreamlike. Before she knew it she was on her side with her bare back pressed against him as he slowly slid in. She reached back, pushing her nails into his hip, drawing him closer.

His soft sigh brushed against her ear as he slid all the way in. They paused for a moment, content to bask in the feeling. After a spell, Cerys grew impatient, wiggling her ass against him.

He chuckled, holding her hips firm. “Patience, love.”

Slowly, he began to move in and out, dragging against her inner walls. As much as she loved it when he was rough with her, securing her with his shadows and throwing her around the bed, she also loved it like this. Wrapped in his arms, surrounded by his scent. Every part of them connected, body and soul.

Azriel must have felt the same, tucking his head into her neck, soft moans skating over his skin. One hand squeezed her breast while the other pressed against her stomach, moving lower.

His fingers pressed against her, feeling where he was moving in and out of her, the speed ratcheting up. She wouldn’t last long like this, his fingers moving against her and his cock pressing deep, so deep, inside her.

Before long she was breaking around him, throwing her head back against his shoulder, feeling him spill inside her. His damp chest heaved against her back, his arms tightly banded around her chest. They lay there for a moment, still locked together, basking in the afterglow. She would never grow tired of this, of him.

_____________________________________________________________

After an _excellent_ start to the day Azriel was more than ready to introduce Cerys to someone very important to him. He was undoubtedly nervous, spending an uncharacteristically long time standing in front of his wardrobe deciding what to wear.

Cerys had crept up behind him, squeezing her damp curls with a towel. “I don’t know what’s taking you so long, it all looks the same to me,” she teased, running a hand over the rails of black.

He frowned, examining his options. “Not all of it.” Pushing aside the umpteenth black set of leathers, he pulled out a soft jumper in a dusty navy colour, pulling it over his head. She liked him in blue.

Cerys ran her hands down his chest appreciatively, feeling the soft material. “This is lovely. The colour suits you.” He nodded absently, running his hand through his hair. His mind was all over the place.

“I’m glad I brought over some clothes here earlier this week,” Cerys said, crouching to open a drawer. She drew out a deep green knit jumper and dark pair of trousers, dressing swiftly.

“ _Still_ not going to tell me who we’re meeting?” He shook his head yet again, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he moved into the kitchen. She huffed, following close behind him.

He was midway through his breakfast when Cerys dropped her toast back onto her plate, expression contemplative. “Azriel… would you like to have some sort of mating ceremony? Or… I don’t know… marriage?”

A laugh burst out of him at her earnest expression, leave it to Cerys to propose marriage to him while she still had toast crumbs on her lips.

“You know I’m happy to tell the world we’re mates in whatever manner you’d like, Cerys.” He paused, moving a piece of egg around with his fork. “As far as marriage, let’s see how today goes, okay?”

Cerys furrowed her brows, confused. “What does today have to do with us getting married?” He sighed, dropping his fork.

“Stop trying to needle answers out of me about who we’re meeting. Like I said, you’ll know soon enough.” She snorted, picking her toast back up.

After their breakfast Azriel had waited while Cerys summoned her wings, stretching them in the weak sunlight. She rolled her shoulders, groaning as her back muscles accustomed to the added weight. After he had told her they wouldn’t be going very far she had asked if she could fly, him readily agreeing. The more she strengthened her wings the farther she could go. Her showing up to the house today with Illyrian wings was an added benefit, as well.

“Okay, I’m ready.” She stretched her wings wide, the pale scars from her tumble in the sea showing up against the sun. Azriel nodded, stretching his own wings out and taking to the sky with a boom.

They flew in silence, enjoying the cool air on their wings, the rush of being high above the earth. A handful of minutes later Azriel was banking left, gesturing for Cerys to follow. They swooped between two high, snow covered peaks, making for a grassy, alpine clearing. A collection of dark wooden cabins stood there, smoke puffing from a handful of the chimneys.

Azriel came here as often as he could, visiting with the females here. It was a commune of sorts for females who had escaped abusive relationships. Most of them had their wings clipped, many suffering far more gruesome injuries. Azriel protected the community with his own magic, no one was allowed in without his expressed permission.

They landed softly on the outskirts, behind the largest building. A curtain twitched over a window on the second story, the sound of footsteps rattling down stairs. Azriel’s heart was pounding, he could feel his palm grow sweaty where he clasped Cerys’ hand. She looked over at him questioningly.

Steeling his nerves, he led her around the side of the house to the front door, knocking against the sky blue wood with his fist. After a moment, the latch clicked and the door slowly pushed open, revealing a female standing on the threshold. Her familiar hazel eyes looked over Azriel and shifted to Cerys, her expression growing warm and hopeful. Her face remained as beautiful and youthful as ever, despite her age. A smile pulled her lips up as her eyes once more met Azriel’s, crinkling at the corners.

“Mother, this is Cerys. My mate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am *SO* sorry for the delay with this chapter!! After ACOSF came out I was in a bit of a rut with this story, but I'm back now! Slight spoilers for ACOSF but I am really feeling Az with a certain female (hint: NOT elain) and can't wait to see where SJM takes it! 
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts on the chapter I'd love to hear them!!
> 
> *I also just posted the first chapter of an Azriel/Gwyn fic - Stars & Shadows! If you do read it I'd love to hear your thoughts, thanks! x


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